Home Is Where the TARDIS Is
by ShainaNight
Summary: Let's just say the Doctor and Amy are bringing a whole new meaning to the phrase 'married, with children'.  Third part in the trilogy begun by Fountain of Youth.
1. Siren Blood

**To those who may have had something in their eye while reading the summary and may have a pet peeve about reading things out of order: This is the THIRD part of an ongoing fanfiction, preceeded by Fountain of Youth and Onwards. Please read those first if you wish to avoid being utterly confused. **

**Okay I am sooooooo sorry it took me so long to put this up. I've had quite a bit going on lately. Last week I got both my paycheck and tax return on the same day, and bought an ASUS laptop to replace those two malfunctioning Gateways I was using before, and a brand-new 32 gb iPod to replace the 1st generation I owned previously that had a spastic battery. So I spent most of last week transferring iTunes stuff and important documents from the old computers to the ASUS, restoring and wiping clean the old computers-which was a hassle in of itself-and trying and failing to restore the old iPod (basically, it's fried. And it wonders why it was replaced...). Then I had to create backup discs for the ASUS since computer companies today are lazy butts and don't bother to include a backup disc anymore lol.**

**On the plus side, I no longer have technology that's out to get me. And the iPod has a TARDIS background. Holla.**

**Also, new laptop means less problems, which means chapters will be easier to write and post. Now lets hope my procrastinator gene doesn't kick in...**

**Hope you enjoy, please review :)**

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Rory sat back in the doily-adorned armchair, sighing as he kicked off his hospital-approved orthopedic shoes.

"How was your day, dear?"

Lorelei was there in an instant, offering him a cup of tea, which he took gratefully. The past ten years of their marriage had done little to mar her picturesque features, the laugh lines at the corners of her eyes the only indication of age. In an effort to play the part of a housewife, she had her long blond hair pulled back into a neat bun and had even added an apron.

"Long. Mr. Trout's still insisting he has a herniated disk, even after we've shown him the x-rays proving he doesn't. Where are the kids?"

Lorelei began to answer, but her words were cut short when no less four hooligans, ranging from nine to six, stampeded into the room, their entrance heralded by a cacophony of "Dad!" repeated over and over. They all attacked him at once, bony elbows and knees jabbing him on all sides. Despite this he laughed, hugging each of them best he could.

"Dad! Dad! I lost a tooth today!" The youngest, Bridgit, announced proudly, smiling to reveal the gap between her teeth.

"That's nothin'. Check this out, Dad," Bridgit's twin Simon, who was older by two minutes, spoke up. He pulled back his sleeve to reveal a large scab just behind his elbow.

"Honestly you two, he doesn't want to see any of that stuff," Mia, the eldest, scoffed with a roll of her eyes and a toss of the blond hair she had inherited from her mother. "Hey Dad, did you see my school marks? They're on the fridge. My teacher says I'm top of the class!"

"Oh come off it, _Amelia_. No one cares about that," stated Michael, the second eldest, who was already getting a prominent nose like his father's. Mia glared at him; no one was allowed to call her by her full name aside from her parents. "Dad, I caught a frog today, wanna see?"

"No one cares about a stupid frog, Michael," Mia shot back.

"Do so!"

"Do not!"

"Do so!"

"Amelia! Michael! Enough of that. Now go help your mum with supper, and then we'll talk about the missing tooth, the scab, the school marks, and the frog all in turn," Rory ordered.

With a dejected chorus of 'awws', the children sulked off towards the kitchen. Bridgit made the biggest show of dragging her feet as if there were shackles attached to them. Rory shook his head as he watched her, a smile tugging at his lips.

Leaning back in the armchair, he closed his eyes and was about to take a short before-supper nap when he heard it. The sound that, if he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget.

Rory jumped to his feet so quickly the chair tipped backwards on two legs and nearly toppled over, deciding to come crashing down on all four legs at the last minute. Not even phased, Rory raced for the door, wrenched it open, and dashed outside.

The TARDIS, inevitably, landed on the healthiest patch of geraniums in Lorelei's garden, fading in and out of view until fully materializing in all its ancient blue glory. The door swung open moments later, and the Doctor appeared, his eyes darting around the garden.

"Excellent! Landed in the right place. Oh, and on the geraniums…again. Dear me. Rory, mate! Been a little while, hasn't it? You're looking…old." The Doctor beamed as if this was the greatest compliment anyone could bestow. He hopped out of the TARDIS and grasped the nurse's hand, shaking it vigorously in salutation.

"Thanks…I think. Haven't seen you in ten years. You look…the same," Rory replied, unsure of a better way to respond to the unusual greeting.

"Ten years, really? Well, I was aiming for a bit earlier, but that really isn't too shabby, all things considered."

"And Amy? Is she still with you?"

The Doctor's smile faltered for a moment. "Yes, of course! Why wouldn't she be? And doing smashingly, I might add."

"Mind if I see her?"

"Erm…this probably isn't a good time…she's sort of indisposed, you see…having a lie-down." The Doctor did his best to make himself sound nonchalant, but it was difficult to remove all concern from his voice.

"Is she ill?" Rory, apparently, was not as unobservant as he looked.

"What? No, no, she's just…Lorelei! Just the siren I wanted to see!"

Lorelei, drawn by the wheezing noise the TARDIS made, had come up behind Rory, having removed her apron in the kitchen. She was just as excited about the appearance of the time machine as her husband had been.

"Hello again, Doctor. How are Amy and the baby?" Lorelei inquired with a welcoming smile.

"Fine, fine. The eldest one, at least."

"The _eldest one_? There's more than the one?" Said Rory, surprised.

The Doctor coughed awkwardly. "Yes, well, just one more."

"Is that what's wrong with Amy?" Rory wasn't looking as friendly as he had a moment before. His jaw clenched.

"I already told you, she's fine. Just recovering, but still fine. And oi, you're one to talk." The Doctor jabbed his thumb towards the house, where Rory and Lorelei's own brood could be heard taking advantage of the lack of supervision by playing a wild game of tag. They had not yet become aware of the presence of the big blue box in their back lawn.

Rory didn't have anything to say to refute this, as the Doctor had expected.

"So what brings you here, Doctor?" Lorelei asked, mainly to relieve the tension.

"Something very not good at all, I'm afraid. It's my daughter—mine and Amy's. She needs an injection of siren blood or else…she's not going to make it. And she's only a few days old. I realize it's an odd request—"

"Of course it isn't. I'll do whatever I can to help," Lorelei promised compassionately.

The Doctor grinned, relieved. "Won't you come in, then?"

* * *

Upon entering the TARDIS, the Williamses couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the familiar sense of awe. It was only their concern that kept them from stopping and staring like children in a candy store. The Doctor led them to the medic bay, where River was watching over Jenna's unmoving form. The woman's gaze lifted when they walked in, her worried blue eyes curious.

"River, Rory and Lorelei Williams. Rory and Lorelei, River Song. River is my daughter's godmother," The Doctor introduced hurriedly.

River studied the man who had once been engaged to Amy. _Good Lord, what a nose,_ she couldn't help thinking. But she also noticed the concern in his eyes, the gentleness that softened them when they fell on Jenna.

"Now, Rory, I could use your help," the Doctor said, barely allowing time for greetings to be exchanged. "I understand you have some experience with injections."

Rory resisted the urge to snort over the usage of the word 'some'—after all, he'd been a nurse for more than ten years now—realizing time was of the essence and was best not wasted on a meaningless disagreement. "Quite a bit, yeah," he said instead.

"Good man." The Doctor smiled and rifled through a drawer, pulling out a syringe. He handed it to Rory, who took it and sterilized the thin needle.

"This is going to pinch a little," the nurse told his wife apologetically as he wrapped a hospital-blue latex tourniquet a few inches above the crook of her left arm.

Lorelei nodded, trying to look indifferent. Her eyes betrayed her uncertainty, however: sirens had no need for human vaccinations, and because of the foreignness of her blood, she was careful to ensure that it was never drawn. This would be the first time a needle ever pierced her skin.

Fortunately, Rory located the vein without any serious complication and slid the needle in, making Lorelei inhale sharply. She averted her eyes during the process, and in less than a minute the syringe barrel was full of a silver substance that was undeniably alien.

"Are you sure this'll work?" Rory asked dubiously, removing the syringe from the vein and examining it. He still couldn't believe the liquid could be used as an inoculation.

"About ninety-nine point nine percent sure. Siren blood has a rare healing quality to it; just don't go spreading that bit of information around to your neighbors." The Doctor lifted the plastic lid off the incubator and stroked his daughter's burning cheek.

"If you say so." Rory wondered about that point one percent, but once again held his tongue. Taking extra care, he changed the needle out for a thinner one, flicked the barrel to release any air bubbles trapped within, and inserted the point into Jenna's upper thigh, due to her arms being far too small to even attempt it.

As soon as the last drop of siren blood had been injected into Jenna's bloodstream, the newborn suddenly didn't look so near death. A healthy glow was returning to her skin.

The Doctor checked the machine that was keeping track of her vitals and exhaled in relief. "She's normalizing," he announced resting his palms on the edge of the incubator for support. He hadn't realized how much strain the ordeal had put on his own body.

"Oh thank God," River breathed. She'd been watching the scene anxiously, fearful that something might go wrong.

Rory pulled Lorelei to him, stroking his fingers through her hair as if to let her know he was proud of her. He looked back down at the child and was surprised to see her eyes had opened, finding himself staring into mismatched irises. No longer the deep, midnight-blue of her birth, one had lightened to the pale cerulean possessed by her father, and the other was the unmistakable emerald belonging to Amy.

"Doctor, look at her eyes," River remarked, mystified by the quick transformation.

"Ah, yes, well. That can sometimes happen with siren blood transfusions; just a side effect, nothing to worry about. Well, that and comeliness. Not like she's going to need any help in that department, though. Blast. Maybe I'll confine her to the TARDIS for the duration of her teenage years or something."

"She looks so much like Amy," Rory noted.

"Yeah, that's the problem." The Doctor removed the oxygen tube from his daughter's nose and lifted her over his shoulder, where she drowsily burrowed into his neck, sighing. There was no mistaking the paternal gleam present in his eyes.

"Speaking of Amy, we should probably let her know Jenna's alright. If we can wake her, that is," said River.

"What do you mean, 'if we can wake her?'" Rory narrowed his eyes at the Doctor. "I thought you said she was fine; only resting."

"She is. She just had a bit of a meltdown over Jenna's illness. But I'm sure she'll wake any moment now."

"You can't be sure of everything." Rory couldn't help being protective. She may not be his wife, but she was still the best friend he had grown up with, the closest thing he had had to a sister as a child. He had no clue how many dangers she had risked in the time since he'd last seen her.

The Doctor sighed. "Fine. Come along if you must."

The Williamses were led down the hall to the room where Amy slept. Jack was currently in the nursery keeping an eye on Ian, but Jenny had remained with Amy, watching over her health in case it declined further.

"She hasn't aged a day since we last saw her," Lorelei commented.

"Er, hello. I'm Jenny." Jenny stood up and held her hand out for Lorelei to shake.

"Lorelei Williams. And this is my husband, Rory."

"Oh yes, I've heard quite a bit about the both of you," Jenny said with a pleasant, well-meaning smile. "Jenna! She's all right, then?" She added, noticing the miniature bundle her father was carrying.

"Seems to be. And it's all thanks to Lorelei here."

"Sure, just ignore the person who actually administered the injection."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "And Rory, of course."

The Time Lord shifted the newborn's weight and settled down beside his wife, threading the fingers of his free hand through hers and squeezing it. He bent down and brushed his lips tenderly against her troubled brow. "Amelia, my love. Jenna's better now; she's completely healed." When he received no response, he grasped her hand tighter. "Please, Amy. Come back to us."

A full minute passed before Amy's eyelids fluttered. Her eyes squinted as she tried to focus, as if even the dim light of the room was too much for them to handle. But as soon as they alighted on the Doctor, everything sharpened. She pushed herself up, her movements jerky yet determined. She poked the Doctor square in the chest.

"Don't ya_ dare_ do that to me again," the ginger threatened.

"Believe me, I don't intend to," said the Doctor, kissing the tip of her nose. He laid their daughter in her arms, and she hugged the child close to her. Feeling as if they were intruding on a private moment, Rory and Lorelei began to back out of the room, but not before Amy caught sight of them.

"Rory! Lorelei! What are you two doing here?" She asked, surprise, curiosity, and a touch of apprehension permeating her tone. Ignoring the Doctor's attempts to keep her in bed, she stood up and approached them, wobbling slightly.

"Lorelei's blood is what saved her—er, Jenna's—life," Rory explained, smiling as the infant wrapped her little fingers around his much larger ones. Her gaze on his was steady and intense, and he was once more reminded of the girl who was her mother. A girl who would forever be a girl, no matter how many children she had.

"Thanks so much. How can we ever repay you?" Amy asked.

"You don't need to worry about that; I was happy to do it." Lorelei smiled. "Although…you could join us for supper, actually. And I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Course we will," Amy replied without hesitation.

The Doctor and Rory looked at each other warily, knowing full and well the awkward evening that awaited them.


	2. One Peculiar Dinner Party

**So you know what's not really amusing at all? When I finally have a laptop that works really well, the internet decides to go out. For three days. I finally figured out to reset it yesterday, although I wouldn't have been able to figure it out so easily if my mom's Mac wasn't so awesome. It practically repaired it for me. Woot.**

**Anyway, sorry for the delay. Hope you like this chapter, please review! :)**

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As was to be expected, Rory and Lorelei's children got on fabulously with the Doctor. While they waited for supper—which Jenny and River had relieved them from helping with by volunteering—he regaled them with stories that left their eyes wide as the planets described in them, their mouths agape. Mia took instantly to Ian, and would have also claimed Jenna if Amy let her. It wasn't just Amy who was protective of the newborn; everyone seemed to think her recovery was too good to be true. Of course, that didn't stop Rory's eldest from crawling up on the sofa next to Amy, her cascade of blond hair falling into her face as she stared at the sleeping infant.

"What's her name?" Mia asked, looking up at Amy. Her eyes were like a sky on a clear, cloudless day and filled to the brim with childlike wonder.

"Jenna." Amy smiled. "What's yours?"

"Mia." The girl wrinkled her nose. "Well, actually it's Amelia, but I don't like it when people call me that. It's just too…"

"Fairytale?" Amy finished for her, her grin widening.

Mia nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. How'd you know?"

"Because your mother and I named you after her." Rory suddenly appeared, having gone upstairs to change from his nurse's uniform into street clothes.

"Really?" Mia seemed quite pleased with this bit of information. Amy had fascinated her from the moment she'd walked—or rather, was helped—through the back door.

Amy chuckled. "Honestly, Rory, did you really have to saddle someone else with that name?"

Rory shrugged. "We liked it. Besides, I don't think Leadworth could survive without at least one Amelia occupying it." He ruffled his daughter's hair. "Mia, why don't you go set the table?"

Although Mia was reluctant to leave, she did as he said. Like many children her age, she considered setting the table as the highest privilege. Once she was gone, Rory turned his attention to Amy, sinking into the armchair that was adjacent to her.

"So how have things been? You know, with him." It was clear enough who 'him' was.

"Fine. No, amazing. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, Rory. The places I've been. And being with him…it makes everything even better."

"And he's been taking care of you okay?"

"Of course. Really, you don't need to be worrying about me."

"I can't help it. After what happened with Prisoner Zero…and to think you're facing stuff like that every day...and with two children, to top it off."

Amy reached out a hand to cover his, squeezing it reassuringly. "I'm fine, I promise. This is the life I chose, and I'm still glad I did. Yeah, there's always going to be some kind of danger—and quite a bit of running involved, I might add—but I'd most likely be getting into trouble just as bad if I'd stayed here."

"Well, you're probably right about that," Rory said with a small grin.

"Oi!"

"Hey, you said it first."

Just then, the Doctor bounded into the room, interrupting them. "Food's ready! Come along, Pond."

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After Jenna was placed in an old baby sleeper that the Williams children had each had a turn in, the Doctor carried Amy to her place at table, ignoring her protests that she really could walk on her own. Jenny brought in Ian and put him in a high chair—also a Williams hand-me-down—scooting it next to her own chair in order to allow Amy some peace while she ate. Ian wasn't entirely pleased with this arrangement at first, but once he discovered that it was Jenny who would be feeding him, he decided not to make too much of a fuss.

The oak table in the dining room had been extended as far as it could go, and even with mismatched chairs squeezed in wherever there was room, the younger children had to be moved to the kitchenette table to eat their supper. Once everyone was seated, Lorelei brought in the meal, which consisted of fresh-out-of-the-oven stromboli and tossed salad with toasted almonds and feta cheese. When the main course was finished, a pound cake dressed in homemade whipped cream and sugared strawberries was produced, disappearing almost as quickly as liberal slices were cut and passed around.

"That was incredible, Lorelei. I mean it," Amy sighed, pushing away from the table. This was the first time she'd felt full in months; Jenna had made sure of that.

Lorelei smiled demurely. "Glad you enjoyed it. Have any room for tea, by chance?"

Amy thought about this. If she sat up straighter and inhaled deeply, there seemed to be a small amount of space in her stomach where tea could be fit in nicely. "I believe so," she announced.

They took their tea in the modestly-sized sitting room, nibbling on biscuits and petit fours that Lorelei had generously supplied but that most of them were too stuffed to eat much of. Jack unblushingly told a few colorful jokes, which he clearly thought to be excellent conversation starters but left everyone but Jenny chuckling nervously. Thankfully he managed to smooth it over, launching into the tale of how he and Jenny had met and their search for the Doctor. Rory was mildly alarmed to find that the blonde was also the Doctor's daughter, although he relaxed considerably upon learning that she was neither the result of another relationship nor Amy's eldest child.

As the conversation wore on, Amy's eyelids began to flutter, the warmth of Jenna's body in her arms and the Doctor's shoulder against her cheek sending her into a lull.

"Oh by the way, Amy, you might want to pop in on your Aunt Sharon before you leave Leadworth; give her a little peace of mind. She still doesn't believe you're alright, despite all these years of me assuring her that you are," Rory remarked.

Amy sat up, her fatigue forgotten in an instant. Her heart began to pound nervously.

"Sounds like a brilliant idea, don't you think, Amy?" The Doctor asked brightly, entirely missing—as usual—the panicked expression on her face.

"No it does not. Ten years or no, she'll kill you in a heartbeat!"

"Oh come on, she can't be that bad."

"Yes. Yes she can. You didn't live with her for twenty one years; you have no idea what she can be like."

"Ah, but you seem to have forgotten that I'm worse than everybody's aunt. And therefore I think I'm capable of surviving a short visit with this Aunt Sharon."  
"You say that now. Just wait till you meet her."

"So we're going then? Marvelous."

Amy narrowed her eyes at her husband. She would have argued with him further if she had the strength for it. "Fine! We'll go. But only if I get some kip in first. I'm not facing Aunt Sharon unless I have all my wits about me. I'm telling you now, though: Don't say I didn't warn you."

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**Mmm, stromboli. Had it for the first time when I went over to my friend's house for a Doctor Who marathon. It's, like, heaven. Honest.**


	3. Bitter Memories

**How's this for a quick update? :)**

**Reviews welcome**

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_It's a frostbitten December day, with soft white snow falling lazily outside the window, but inside the house with too many rooms, it's warm and toasty. A Christmas special plays on the telly while an eight-year-old girl with flaming red hair, freckles, and a dusting of flour on her nose and cheeks rolls out sugar biscuits from a canister. She smiles as she works, imagining the shapes she is going to cut them into: Santa faces and reindeer, Christmas trees and bells._

_Just then a woman walks through the door, wrapped up tightly in a thick woolen coat, hat, scarf, and gloves. As she begins peeling off her layers and hanging them on the coat rack, she throws a glance in the little girl's direction._

"_What are you doing, Amelia?" The woman asks._

"_Making biscuits for Santa," The girl says excitedly, her green eyes sparkling. She arranges the biscuits on the baking sheet with the greatest of care, shaking red and green sugar crystals over them. Most of the sprinkles end up on the baking sheet instead._

_The woman shakes her head, looking grim. "Darling, you know there's no such thing as Santa. Remember what I told you after last Christmas? About how it was me who gave you those dolls and the pencils, and the fish?"_

_The girl's face crumples. "But Aunt Sharon…"_

"_No buts, Amelia. It's time you started growing up. I don't want to hear anything more about Santa, or that so-called Doctor of yours." The woman switches off the telly, as if to make a point._

_The ginger-haired girl looks down at the baking sheets full of goodies she'd been so proud of only moments before, the cheerful shapes swimming in the tears she does her best to hold back._

_Years flash by, and the girl is older, just barely a teen and still trying to adjust to the transition of her body from child to woman. She crashes through the front door and slams it behind her, then races upstairs to her room. She flings herself onto her bed, tears streaming down her face, hating her very existence._

"_Amelia, what's wrong?" The woman is older too, the smallest hint of gray in her dark chignon, but there is still no warmth in her eyes. She knows how to be a guardian, but not a caregiver, and never a mother._

"_Everyone at school says I'm weird, and the girls are mean to me. They all make fun of me," the young girl mumbles into her pillow between sobs._

"_What about that nice boy, Rory?" The woman asks._

"_He doesn't count. They all think he's a dork." The girl turns her head to look at her aunt, her eyes red and puffy. "I wish I were dead."_

"_Don't say that. You'll find your place eventually, as you get older."_

_The seasons change, and the redhead is no longer a child, but a young woman of seventeen. She's beautiful now, all traces of awkwardness gone, and many of the boys at school regret having teased her. The girls continue to hate her, however, and have all the more reason to now. But she's learned to ignore them, to grow a thick skin against their attacks. She has Rory to keep her company, and that's good enough for her. She's given up on trying to find her place; she's not sure she wants to. One evening, as she's getting ready for a date, she laments over her freckles that never went away._

_Rather than telling her they make her even more lovely, the woman standing behind her frowns at the mirror. "Quite a shame, freckles. But then your mother had them; too bad she had to pass them on to you. Try some lemon juice on them, dear."_

_The girl wants to burst into tears, but not for the first time she holds them back. Later that night she comes home with a torn skirt, streaks of mascara down her face from crying, but because her aunt has already gone out she's unable to tell her about her jerk of a date, who wanted something from her she wasn't ready to give up yet. Not that he'd gotten it; the hard kick she'd dealt to his groin made it clear he never would._

_She almost wishes her guardian was home for once, so she'd have someone female to talk to. Instead she settles for ringing Rory. She refrains from telling him about what her date attempted, however, for she knows he'll want to avenge her somehow, and she doesn't want him getting himself hurt. She masks the pain in her voice as she talks to him, her gaze drifting to the drawings, puppets, and dolls strewn out over her desk, all depicting the friend she yearns for most of all…_

Amy woke from the dream so quickly it was like coming up for air after being underwater for several minutes.

"Amy? Something wrong?" Strong arms encircled her waist, turning her over. She didn't realize until then that her face was wet with tears. She looked up at her imaginary friend, making out his familiar features in the darkness.

"Nope. Just a…some bad dreams. Kinda stupid, honestly."

The Doctor's fingertips brushed over her cheeks, expertly wiping away the tears. It seemed for a second as if he missed one, but perhaps this was intentional, for he leaned down just then and kissed it away. "Tell me about them."

Amy bit her lip. "Well…they weren't exactly dreams, I guess. More like memories. From my life before you, when I lived with Aunt Sharon."

The Doctor looked grim. "And they made you cry." The ginger may have been doing her best to put up an unconcerned front, but he had felt the trembling of her body moments before, heard the tiny sobs that had escaped her in her fitful sleep. "Please, Amy. You can tell me anything."

Amy fiddled with his rolled-up sleeve, her eyes downcast in order to avoid his gaze. "Really, it was nothing. I just had a time of it fitting in when I was a little girl, at school, you know. Well, to tell ya the truth, everywhere…"

Before Amy knew what was happening, everything came spilling out, from that Christmas when she was eight to the rotten date with the forceful young man, and suddenly she was sobbing uncontrollably into his chest, years of pent-up feelings pouring out all at once like waters breaching a floodgate. He listened to her throughout it all, not once interrupting, not once shushing her. He held her closer, his fingers massaging her scalp and the nape of her neck.

"My poor Amelia Pond. No child should have to go through that." The Doctor rested his forehead against hers, and she couldn't help looking up, her eyes connecting with his. "I want you to know something, Amy. Actually, some things. First off, there is most definitely a Santa—known to his friends as Jeff—and don't you forget it. Second, being yourself is far more important than fitting in, and I've never seen anyone do it quite as brilliantly as you. Thirdly, don't you dare ever tell me the name of that bloke who tried to take advantage of you, because I swear I will hunt him down, and quite frankly I'm not responsible for my actions after that."

Amy laughed weakly, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her chest. "What would I do without you?" She mused, her thumb tracing his strong jawline.

"Probably be very dismally bored. Now, do have your wits about you enough to go see your aunt?"

Amy sighed. "As much as I ever will."

The Doctor smiled and kissed her, then rolled out of bed, coming around to the other side to help her up.

"Oi, that's enough of that. My past is no excuse for you to play Mum," Amy scolded as he tried to put her brown leather boots on for her.

"Who said I needed an excuse?" The Doctor asked, ignoring her and resuming his task. "Now don't forget your sweater; it might be chilly outside."

"It's almost summer out there, Doctor."

"You never can be too careful."

Amy shook her head and grabbed a thin cardigan, planning to dispose of it discreetly before leaving the TARDIS. Her plan fell through, however, for the Doctor kept an eye on her all the way to the door, as if he expected such a thing of her.

Jack, Jenny, and River were waiting for them outside, although only to see them off. It was a mutual decision that their presence at Aunt Sharon's home would only make things more complicated. Amy took Jenna from River, and Jenny relinquished Ian to the Doctor.

"So if you don't make it, can I have the TARDIS?" Jack joked mischievously.

"Not on your life," the Doctor answered.

Jack shrugged. "Doesn't hurt to try."

"Best of luck, Amy. And do keep an eye on him," River said, indicating the Doctor. He rolled his eyes in response.

"I truly do not understand that woman sometimes," the Doctor muttered as they were walking away, down the lane that led to the house Amy had grown up in.

"Well she does sorta have a point. You can be a little…different."

"Different is good. I like different."

"Not when Aunt Sharon's involved."

"Don't worry about her. Everyone loves me."

"Have you forgotten about the other half of the universe that wants to kill you?"

"Must we be so nitpicky?"

"In this case, yeah."

The Doctor would have argued the matter further, but right then Ian decided to wage war on his bowtie, and he spent the rest of their trek attempting to disentangle the boy's hands from it. Not bothering to offer assistance, Amy watched with a look of amusement on her face.

It was a beautiful spring afternoon, the sky a pale blue with wisps of silver-white clouds curling through it. The long, khaki-green grasses that lined the dirt lane swayed in a gentle breeze against the old tumbledown picket fence that ran the length of it. When at last they reached the gate to Aunt Sharon's cottage, Amy halted, staring apprehensively at the house that had once been her home, now even more overgrown with ivy after ten years' time. The swing in the garden still creaked as it swung back and forth in the breeze, and the ominous sound only made her more nervous.

"Just remember; you're not alone," the Doctor suddenly said in her ear, threading his fingers through hers.

Feeling considerably better, Amy squared her shoulders and pushed open the gate.


	4. Forgive and Forget

Aunt Sharon paused, duster in hand, outside the room she always did her best to avoid, staring uncertainly at the tarnished knob. She'd tried to tell herself that she was silly for keeping away from it—after all it was just an old bedroom; nothing more. The possessions that had occupied it for much longer than the past ten years were just things. What was she afraid of? That the walls would talk, tell her that, if she'd been more kind and loving, her niece wouldn't have run off?

Truth was, deep down, that's exactly what the woman feared. But her sensibility took over as usual, pushing her regret to the farthest reaches of her mind for the time being. She turned the knob and entered the room, finding it exactly how it had been left on the night before her Amy's wedding. Aside from the inch of dust that covered everything, it looked as if a young woman still lived in it, down to the rumpled bedsheets. Aunt Sharon hesitated for only a moment more before taking a deep breath and attacking the dust bunnies.

Her task was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Mildly relieved she set down the duster and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her. She descended the stairs to the entry, wondering who could be calling. Visitors these days were rare.

Pulling open the door, the woman almost had a heart attack at the sight of her niece, looking no different from the day she had last seen her. At first she thought her mind was playing tricks on her, but she was positive her mind was not quite so imaginative as to conjure up the ginger-haired newborn in her arms, or the bowtie-wearing man and the green-eyed child behind her.

"A-Amelia? Is it really you?" Aunt Sharon questioned, her eyes wide.

Amy smiled anxiously, shifting Jenna's weight. The infant stared up at her great-aunt with curiosity, her two-toned eyes making the woman feel a little uncomfortable. "Hallo, Aunt Sharon. How are ya?"

There was a shocked pause. "Heavens you don't look more than twenty-one. But it's been ten years. How is that possible?"

"Ah, yes, well you see, that's my fault. Took her to see the Fountain of Youth back in 1513 and Ponce de Leon showed up and caused a fat lot of trouble and then she drank the water without realizing what it was and these natives with sharp pointy sticks jumped out of the shrubbery and tried to shish kabob us so we ran away but I couldn't reverse it so here we are."

"Doctor, you reeeally need to learn how to _shut up_," Amy reprimanded, narrowing her eyes at him.

"What? She asked how it was possible so I told her. In Spark Notes form."

"I mean it; shut up." Amy turned back to Aunt Sharon, who was staring at the pair of them as if they needed to be locked up in the loony bin. "So can we come in now?"

* * *

The cottage's sitting room was much too stiff and formal to get properly comfortable in, but the Doctor and Amy made do. Fishing something that appeared as if it could either have been an alien toy or a part to a spaceship engine out of his inside jacket pocket, the Doctor placed Ian on the spotless wood floor with it to occupy him. Then he sat on the velvet loveseat next to Amy, looking perfectly at home.

"You. I've seen you before, haven't I?" Aunt Sharon realized in none to pleasant of a tone, speaking to the Doctor. "At Rory and Lorelei's wedding. And…you look familiar, besides that."

"Aunt Sharon, this is my husband, the Doctor," Amy introduced.

"Pleased to finally meet you, Aunt Sharon," the Doctor said warmly, beaming as he leaned forward to shake her hand.

"The Doctor." Aunt Sharon dropped into the nearest chair, her complexion a little green. She turned her gaze on her niece. "But I thought…I thought he was a childhood game, something you made up. Are you trying to tell me he's real?"

"Well more like showing you, but yeah," Amy replied. Jenna took possession of her knuckle and began to suck on it experimentally, but she didn't notice.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"Why would I joke about this?" Amy asked.

"Oh, I don't know. How can he be here, looking the same, if you met him when you were seven? How can you not have changed at all in the past ten years? And how can you be a mother?"

The Doctor and Amy looked at each other. Apparently Rory had been very vague about exactly where Amy had disappeared to. Not that he could have explained it; he would have immediately been discounted as not right in the head if he had.

"Aunt Sharon, do remember the stories I used to tell you about the Doctor?" Amy questioned.

Aunt Sharon did remember, and all too well. "So I'm supposed to believe he's some alien who travels through time in a blue box."

"Well that is pretty dead-on," the Doctor commented.

Aunt Sharon studied him, this strange man who was allegedly her nephew-in-law. He could have been insane for all she knew, someone who kidnapped her Amy and made her believe he was her imaginary friend. But that didn't explain why Amy wasn't thirty-one as she should have been, or how that blue box had disappeared into thin air all those years ago, or why Rory had defended him so strongly.

"This doesn't make any sense," Aunt Sharon said with a shake of her head.

"See, Amy? This is the problem with growing up," the Doctor said in exasperation. Quite unexpectedly he got up from the couch and knelt beside the woman. He grabbed her hand and placed it on the left side of his chest first, followed by the right. "Feel that? Not one heart, Aunt Sharon, but two. And the children are the same. You know well enough that I'm not from here."

Aunt Sharon was at a loss for words. She stared at the Doctor, and something changed in her expression. "So it's really you," she said at last.

"Now you're getting it." The Doctor smiled.

"And what makes you think you can run off with _my_ niece, especially the night before her wedding? I had just gotten used to the idea of having Rory for a nephew."

"Oi! I went with him because I wanted to, Aunt Sharon. Rory's a good friend, but things wouldn't have worked out between him and me. You've seen how happy he is with Lorelei." Amy was tempted to inform her that Lorelei was from another planet as well, but stopped herself at the last second. It was probably best if her aunt's life as she knew it stayed the way it was.

Aunt Sharon didn't look entirely convinced, but just then Ian crawled over to her chair, abandoning his toy and demanding to be picked up. Unable to refuse him, she lifted him into her lap, and he snuggled against her. The strictness in her face softened.

"Rory told me you came back to visit him. And that you were expecting your first child. I couldn't believe it; he couldn't have been talking about my little niece." Aunt Sharon blinked back something that could have been tears. "But you're not little anymore, are you? You're the woman I always wanted you to become. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to make you grow up so fast."

Amy stood up, and the Doctor took Jenna from her so she could grasp her aunt's hand. She knelt in his place. "No, you shouldn't have. But all that's in the past now," she replied gently.

"If I had the opportunity to go back and do everything differently, I would," Aunt Sharon told her. She stroked her grand-nephew's smooth skin, having been completely taken in by his charms. He reminded her of the first time she'd ever held Amy, back when the girl's mother was still alive. Of course her hair had been ginger even then, the same shade as Jenna's. Aunt Sharon had been so afraid to hold her, even to touch her, for fear she'd break and it would be all her fault. Little did she know then that there was another way to break a child: emotionally.

Amy didn't have a response for this. Instead she pulled her aunt into a hug, which Ian was rather happy about seeing as he got to be a part of it. When they separated, the little boy had somehow attached himself to his mother and came away with her, his arms wrapped around her neck. Amy laughed and called him a monkey, kissing the top of his head as he nestled under her chin. Aunt Sharon felt a pang in her heart at the sight of a bond she would never have.

"So I suppose you don't plan on lingering in Leadworth much longer, am I right?" Aunt Sharon guessed, trying not to sound too disappointed.

"We were planning on leaving right after stopping by here, as a matter of fact," the Doctor answered. Although he was glad Amy and her aunt were getting along better, the dullness of the little village was starting to wear on him.

Aunt Sharon knew well enough that they didn't intend on returning. It was for that reason that she made the most of the remainder of their day together, exchanging stories and getting better acquainted with her grand-niece and nephew. By the time the Doctor and Amy left, it was dusk, and Amy was surprised to feel a touch of remorse at their parting.

"And you had yourself all worried for nothing. I'd say that went rather well," said the Doctor as they set a course for the TARDIS, both Ian and Jenna fast asleep in their arms.

"Yeah, it wasn't exactly what I was expecting," Amy replied, studying the old locket her aunt had pressed into her hand when they were saying their goodbyes; something to remember her by. Inside was a picture of a much younger Aunt Sharon holding an hours-old Amy in her arms, an unusually warm smile plastered on her face. Amy had never known the photo existed, and doubted that even if she had before that day she wouldn't have given it a second glance, but she cherished it now.

"Are you sure your head's not on fire there?" The Doctor asked as he regarded the picture, shattering the sentimentality of the moment.

"Oh stuff it," Amy responded, rolling her eyes and shoving him away only a bit playfully.

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**As always, reviews loved :)**


	5. And Then There Were Five

"So do you think he'll be okay with it?" Jack asked as he searched through the TARDIS tools for something that would fix his vortex manipulator.

"Most definitely not. But he's going to have to accept that I'm not a child sooner or later," Jenny replied with a slight frown.

"Well if he kills you first, he won't have to worry about accepting it. Or rather, if he kills Jack first. That would make things simpler," River commented.

They were all in the TARDIS console room, waiting for the Doctor and Amy to return. River was taking the opportunity to give the old ship some upgrades its pilot had been putting off, and probably would have kept on doing so for at least another century. Jack had only just made up his mind to head back to Torchwood, after receiving a message from his team that he was sorely needed. And of course Jenny wasn't planning on letting him leave without her; something he was glad for. There was just one little problem: the girl's well-meaning yet overprotective father.

Jack was surprised at the nervousness he was experiencing at the prospect of facing the Doctor. They'd departed on good terms the last time they'd seen each other, and he preferred it to stay that way. He also didn't want Jenny feeling responsible if things got messy. He knew how much the father and daughter loved each other.

"We're back!"

Jack almost dropped the vortex manipulator as the Doctor breezed through the TARDIS doors. He quickly hid the gadget and stood up, hoping the guilt he felt wasn't evident. "And all in one piece. Amazing."

"I know, right? I mean yeah, Aunt Sharon wasn't all too happy about me having married an alien—and the running away bit—but once she got over it we got along pretty well," Amy said, letting River remove Jenna from her arms before collapsing into one of the chairs near the console. Small as the excursion had been, it had taken its toll on her.

River glanced at Jack questioningly, and he nodded in reply. "Well I guess I'll go ahead and get these two off to bed. Looks like they've had a long day," she announced, taking Ian from the Doctor as well. Little did the Doctor and Amy know she was merely removing the children from the line of fire.

"So, where to now? Jack, Jenny, any ideas?" The Doctor asked, oblivious to the tension in the air.

Jack waited until River had completely disappeared from sight before speaking. "Actually, Doctor, I've just had word from my team that they need me. I think this is goodbye for us."

The Doctor looked only mildly startled by this announcement. "Yes, I see. Sorry to see you go, mate," he said, although his tone didn't reflect much regret.

"I'm going with him, Dad," Jenny declared, coming over to loop her arm through Jack's.

There was a screeching sound as a lever the Time Lord had been pulling was wrenched as far as it could go and nearly snapped. He didn't even notice, for his full attention was locked on his daughter and the man attempting to steal her away from him.

"I'm sorry, what?" He didn't quite seem to believe it.

"I'm going to Cardiff with Jack." Jenny's voice was firm. If she was as nervous as Jack, she was doing a good job disguising it.

"What!"

"Don't get me wrong; I love being with you, Dad, here in the TARDIS. I've enjoyed every minute of it. But you can't expect me to stay for the rest of life. And besides, it's not like you won't be able to come and visit me."

"Jenny! You barely even know him!"

"I know enough. I know I love him."

"And what do you know of love, exactly?"

The two of them were squaring off once more like alley cats before a tussle.

"Doctor," Amy said warningly, abandoning the relief sitting had provided to press a small hand to his chest. She doubted her influence over him, powerful though it was, would extend far enough in this situation.

"I swear to you I'll take good care of her," Jack promised, although this didn't seem to help in the least.

"Not as well as I can, thank you very much," the Doctor snapped. He took a step forward and would have advanced farther if Amy's grip didn't tighten.

"I don't _need_ to be taken care of. I can do that well enough on my own," Jenny shot back stubbornly. It was clear that she and her father were much too alike. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that all of her DNA had come from him; there were no genes from a mild-mannered mother to damper her temper.

"You crashed a spaceship!"

"That wasn't my fault, and at least I brought her down gently. Anyway, I hear you've crashed the TARDIS on far more than one occasion!"

"Doctor, she's a grown woman. You're going to have to let her make her own decisions," Amy intervened.

"Shush, Amelia," the Doctor ordered.

Amy, however, was not one to take orders from anyone. She bristled. "_Excuse_ me, mister? Talk to me like that again and you'll be sleeping elsewhere tonight," the ginger threatened.

"Amy, please don't interfere. I don't want anything happening to you this time," the Doctor pleaded.

"Dad, I know what this is about. You're always so afraid of losing people you love, or seeing them get hurt," Jenny spoke up, calmly this time. "But sometimes by protecting them, you end up hurting them instead. Don't do that to me. Please."

The Doctor turned back to his daughter, a conflicted look in his eyes. "Are you absolutely sure you love him?" He inquired softly.

"Absolutely and completely." Jenny shared a smile with Jack.

The Doctor sighed. "Fine, alright." He marched as close to Jack as Amy would let him and jabbed a finger at the space between his eyes. "But if you do _anything_ to harm her, even if it's breaking her heart, and I find out about it, rest assured all Hell will break loose on you. Have I made myself quite clear?"

"Crystal," Jack said with a serious nod. He tried and failed not to grin like an idiot, realizing the enormity of the reprieve he'd been granted. To live without Jenny would have been like dying every death he'd ever experienced a second time around. He could have kissed the Doctor, but settled for a rather undignified hug.

"Okay, okay, enough of that," the Doctor said, shrugging out of the man's embrace only to be pulled into one by an ecstatic Jenny. She kissed his cheek.

"Thank you, so much," she told him, her voice just short of a squeal.

"Just remember to be careful, alright? Cardiff has its dangers too," her father warned her.

"I will. So long as you take care of yourself as well. And everyone else."

The Doctor nodded. "And Jenny?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"I love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

* * *

After flying Jack and Jenny to Cardiff within the same year Jack had left it—the Doctor would forever be cynical about the reliability of vortex manipulators—and saying a countless numbers of farewells, the TARDIS headed for deep space once more.

"Just so you know, I'm very proud of you for letting her go," Amy remarked as her husband parked the ship in some stretch of deserted cosmos.

"You have no idea how close I was to whacking Jack over the head and taking Jenny back with us," the Doctor replied without one trace of humor.

"Yeah, but then you would have been sleeping elsewhere two nights in a row."

The Doctor stopped fiddling with the controls. "Wait, you weren't serious about that, were you?"

Amy shrugged. "I dunno; maybe. You have been rather irritating lately."

The Doctor wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her to him. He planted a lengthy kiss on her lips, one that had her knotting her fingers in his hair and gasping for air afterwards. "So what about now?" He asked huskily, his eyes smoldering.

Amy squinted at the ceiling and bit her lip, as if trying to make up her mind. "You know, the armchair in the library is quite comfortable. Just make sure you don't fall into the swimming pool in the middle of the night and you'll be right as rain."

And with that she slipped out of his grasp, giggling as she raced for their room.

"Not funny, Amy!" The Doctor called, although he was laughing too as he chased after her. Catching up with her, he swept her off her feet and carried her into the room, kicking the door shut behind them.

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**Reviews, please and thank you. You guys are pretty awesome about those :)**


	6. The Anavrinian Pilot

**So random, but I just noticed that the last chapter, And Then There Were Five, was also Chapter 5. I love it when things work out like that.**

**Sorry it took so long to update. I have a lot going on and will continue to, for instance having to purchase and install a new driver's side mirror on my car, so bear with me.**

**Enjoy, Please review! :)**

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The next morning, River found the Doctor in the console room, fiddling with the controls as usual. His clothes had the rumpled appearance of having spent most of their time on the floor for the past night.

"Amy still asleep?" River asked, her fingers wrapped around a large, polka-dotted mug of coffee.

"What? Oh, yeah. Still worn out—from Jenna and…stuff." The Doctor seemed to be in his own little world. Or rather, in his and Amy's world.

River raised her eyebrows, the condition of his clothing failing to escape her notice. "From Jenna. Right. Sure." The woman sighed. "Sometimes I really detest living with a married couple."

The Doctor only coughed and pretended to be completely absorbed by what he was doing, coloring slightly. His other traveling companion was much too perceptive for her own good.

"So where're we headed to?" River asked once she saw that he was setting coordinates.

Glad to have anything else to talk about, the Doctor launched heartily into an explanation. "The TARDIS just picked up on a distress signal, originating from somewhere in the Andromeda Galaxy. I'm locking onto it now."

"STOP!"

The Doctor, who had been about to throw the lever that initiated takeoff, jerked his hand back and stared at River as if she'd suddenly gone mad.

"What?" He demanded.

Not offering an explanation at first, River strolled up the steps to the console and engaged the stabilizers. "I wasn't about to have my coffee spilled for the umpteenth time. You may proceed," she said airily, bringing the mug to her lips.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and muttered darkly before returning to the lever. Ignoring him, River headed for the nursery to fetch Jenna, who could be heard wailing for her breakfast even from that distance.

"Alright, alright! I'm working on it," The woman told the squalling, red-faced newborn as she lifted her out of the crib, surprised yet thankful that her fussing hadn't woken her brother. She carried her to the room just down the hall, cracking open the door and peering inside before entering.

Amy was still dead to the world, her hair a mess and her body tightly wrapped in the sheets. There was a content smile painted on her face, even in her sleep. River shook her by the shoulder gently, and it was a moment before she was fully awake.

"Well aren't we noisy this morning," Amy said affectionately after stretching, taking her daughter from the child's godmother. Once in her mother's arms, Jenna's wails muted to something more akin to mewing, much like the sound a kitten would make when asking for its milk.

"The Doctor just received a distress signal from the Andromeda Galaxy. We're on our way there now," River informed, sitting on the edge of the desk.

"Wonder who's sending it out," Amy remarked. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"I expect we'll find out soon. But don't even think I'm letting you or the children leave the TARDIS until the danger's past, if there's any."

Amy sighed. "You and the Doctor really have to spoil everything for me, don't ya?"

"It's our job." River jumped off the desk and headed for the door, stopping with her hand on the knob and turning. "Now you just stay right there. Relax a bit for once, okay?"

"Fine, River."

As soon as she was gone and Jenna had finished eating, however, Amy nestled the baby on a circular pillow and flew to the dresser for the first outfit she could find.

* * *

The ship was going down; there was no fighting it any longer. Its nose hurtled downward through the atmosphere, burning hot blue and orange, spearing through the clouds when it reached them. There was only one person aboard, a man who was both pilot and passenger. He grasped the wheel with both hands in a vain attempt to pull up, to avoid the impending doom that awaited both him and the innocent locals on the ground below. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, and he clenched his teeth together, his determination set against the odds.

Suddenly, something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He craned his neck towards it and stared in shock at what appeared to be a blue wooden box falling with him, perfectly in sync with the descent of his own craft. Abandoning the wheel, he pulled himself over to the window to get a better look.

Without warning the door of the blue box banged open, and there stood the most strangely-attired man he'd ever seen, bracing himself in the doorway. He had a coil of cable in his hand, at the end of which was affixed a grappling hook. Twirling this hook over his head like a lasso, the man released it, and the cable arched through the air like a ribbon. It should have fallen short, but perhaps the hook was strongly magnetized, for it made a beeline for the damaged craft, its sharp points embedding into the steel just beside the hatch. Once it was secure, the man in the box fastened his end somewhere further inside, making it pull taut. Then he reappeared and waved a beckoning arm at the pilot, his lips forming the words 'come on'.

The pilot continued to stare, unable to move. Was he really expected to pull himself along that cable thousands of feet in the air, while being bombarded by the rushing wind at the same time? It was impossible!

Just then the craft jerked roughly, throwing the pilot into the opposite wall. Righting himself, he made a quick decision. Either way he was going to fall to his death, and if there was a small chance he might survive, he might as well take it. Doing his best to push aside his fears, the pilot unbolted the hatch, and it slammed against the side of the ship so hard it made the whole thing shudder. Warily he grabbed ahold of the cable, testing its strength before climbing out onto it.

The wind attacked him mercilessly, raking at his skin and stealing the breath from his lungs. Squinting his eyes against the assault, the pilot inched across the cable, focusing on putting one hand over the other.

At last he felt someone grab him by the arms and haul him into the box, both of them tumbling to the floor. He opened his eyes to find the unusual man who had saved him releasing the cable and tugging the door shut.

"Whooee, mate. Got a bit of a death wish there, have you?" The man grinned, turning to face the newcomer.

The pilot lay there for a moment, gulping in the oxygen he'd been deprived of while crossing the cable. And then, quite unexpectedly, he passed out.

* * *

"So who do you think he is?" Amy asked. She and the Doctor were standing in the doorway of one of the TARDIS's many spare rooms, watching their guest as he slept. He looked human enough; curly jet-black hair going prematurely gray, slightly tanned skin, high cheekbones, the beginning shadow of a beard. But they'd all seen his eyes when they'd been open, noted the dusky violet color of them that no human could ever possess. And his clothing, which was a little on the steampunk side, wasn't something that could easily be found on Earth either.

"Probably just some unfortunate pilot who got caught in meteor shower. It appeared as if his ship had been hit by some sort of object of considerable size, most likely more than one." The Doctor scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I do believe he's Anavrinian, from the looks of him."

"Ana-what?"

"Anavrinian. An inhabitant of this planet we've landed on; Anavrin. Fascinating place, really. Ever heard the expression 'money doesn't grow on trees'? Well, here it does. Quite literally. Every blossom pops up either pure gold or silver. And no matter how many times you pick them, they always grow back more abundantly. It's made Anavrin a rather wealthy trading port."

"Lucky them," Amy remarked, a little distractedly. She was watching River gently administer first aid to the pilot's open wounds. _Maybe…_

"Well I suppose we'll have to wait until he comes around to find out what exactly happened," the Doctor mused, completely unaware of the thoughts running through his wife's head.

"No point in waitin' 'round here, though; might be a while. Besides, it's your turn to feed Ian," Amy invented quickly.

The Doctor looked appalled. "Are you sure? I'm almost one hundred percent positive I did it last time."

"Now don't go pulling that on me, you numpty. Last time you mysteriously went missing in the bowels of the TARDIS and I ended up having to take your turn. There's no worming out of it this time."

"But…but I'm the one he likes to hurl his peas at the most. And believe me it's the most distasteful stuff in existence."

Amy wrapped her arms around his neck, her face only two inches away from his and her soft lips parted. "Would it make it better if I gave you a kiss?" She asked in a low, silky voice.

"Maybe a little." The Doctor smiled and bent down, but at the last second she pulled away.

"You can have it _after_ you feed him," she told him with a taunting grin. Then she skipped past him down the corridor.

The Doctor sighed and trudged towards the nursery, preparing himself for the battle that would soon ensue.

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**So I got 'Anavrin' from spelling 'Nirvana' backwards. Original, I know. Lol. Actually I just wanted to try something different than deriving names from languages, and spelling things backwards is how I used to invent names for my notebook fantasy stories when I was a kid. Let's just say it's a good thing those never got published.  
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	7. Clarion Grey

**Really sorry for the delay. I'm currently outlining and developing my novel quite a bit more now, as well as dealing with the aforementioned issues life's been throwing at me, so these chapters are regretfully coming a little more slowly. I apologize in advance. I promise I'm not abandoning this story :)**

**Thanks for reading, please review :)**

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The first thing the pilot thought before coherency set in was that he was dead. Through his momentarily blurred vision, the wild blond ringlets of the woman sitting beside him resembled a halo, and she was definitely beautiful enough. In fact, at least in his opinion, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, even with normal eyesight.

"Hello there." River smiled, relieved to see her patient was finally conscious.

The pilot meant to greet her in return, but as soon as he sat up, the sore muscles, bruises, and cuts all throughout his body made him groan involuntarily instead.

"You probably shouldn't try to move around too much. You've got quite a bit of healing to do yet," River warned him.

The pilot did as she said, leaning back against the overstuffed blue pillows. "What is your name, if I may ask?" He inquired, his accent suggesting an educated background. He had a level gaze, and although River couldn't remember ever blushing in her life, she felt her cheeks grow warm under it.

"River. River Song. And yours?"

"Clarion Grey."

"I like it. Very fitting."

"As is yours."

River cracked a smile once more.

"Tell me, River Song. Where am I?" Clarion asked.

River chuckled. "Believe it or not, that's not the easiest question to answer. It's a sort of inter-dimensional spaceship thing that looks like a police box on the outside."

The man didn't seem too amazed by this. "I've seen stranger things before. Quite frankly I'm glad to be aboard any kind of ship other than my craft, good girl though she was."

"Mr. Grey—"

"Clarion. I insist."

"Alright…Clarion, what exactly happened to you? The Doctor said your ship looked as if it'd been hit by something, perhaps meteors."

"The Doctor?"

"Oh, yes. He's the pilot of this ship, as well as the one who rescued you."

"Ah, the man wearing the bowtie."

"That's the one."

"Well it was definitely hit, but not by meteors. I was gunned down."

River raised an eyebrow. "Who would do that?"

"You've only just recently arrived on this planet, haven't you?"

"As of a few hours ago, yes."

"That explains it, then. Well, you should know Anavrin was seized by pirates a few years ago and has been under their control ever since. Unspeakable things happen every day, and there's no justice for them." Clarion dropped his gaze and sighed, suddenly looking much older than his roughly thirty years. "It was not so in the days of the Kings."

"Sounds like I have a lot to learn. Right now all I know is that gold and silver grows on trees."

"Indeed it does. You should see the orchards in the spring, bursting into glorious bloom and gleaming in the morning sun. Unfortunately, it was our trees that attracted the pirates in the first place." Clarion shook his head. "So, River—if I may call you that—what expanse of the galaxies do you hail from?"

"A little planet in the Milky Way Galaxy called Earth."

"I know it well."

This caught River off guard. "Really? But it's millions of light-years from here. Don't tell me you've been there?"

"Actually, yes. Several times."

It was then that River noticed something glinting from underneath the man's sleeve on his uninjured hand. Before he could stop her she pushed up the material to reveal a vortex manipulator, one much more sophisticated than what she had experience with.

"So you're a time traveler," River surmised.

"Freelance time agent, to be exact."

"Figures. No wonder the pirates were after you."

"You don't sound all that shocked."

A smile crept over River's face. "Time traveling's only been my entire life. I've had my own share of vortex manipulators. But honestly, I prefer time machines."

"Time machines? No more than the stuff of legend now, those."

River chuckled. "Oh, you'd be surprised."

"Look who's up and at 'em! Well, sort of."

At that moment the Doctor interrupted them, pleased to see their guest was awake and well. He all but galloped into the room, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

"Doctor, is that a pea smeared on the front of your shirt?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, River. Now, Mister Whoever-You-Are, tell me about yourself." The Doctor grabbed his chair and swiveled it around so that he was sitting with his arms folded over the back of it.

If Clarion found the Doctor's appearance or behavior odd, he gave no indication of it. Instead he told him his name and related the information he'd given River moments before.

"Pirates, eh? Fantastic! Or maybe not so much, no, considering they took over your home…yes…so, time agent! Can't say I'm a fan of them, but I've never met an Anavrinian one, so I'll give you that." The Doctor regarded the vortex manipulator with disdain. He stared at it for a moment, his frown deepening.

"Is something wrong?" Clarion questioned.

"That vortex manipulator. Where'd you get it?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Now tell me, where'd you get it?"

Clarion hesitated. "A…friend...gave it to me as a gift. It had been passed down through his family for centuries."

The Doctor whistled. "You have some friends in pretty high places then, fella. There was a Time Lord inventor once, many, many years ago, who believed the privilege of time travel should be shared. He was a bit of an oddball, you see. Before he was forced to close his workshop he created a small collection of top-of-the-line vortex manipulators, skillfully-made precision devices that put all of the cheap and shoddy ones out there to shame, and bestowed them on a choice number of royal families he was friendly with at the time. One of those families was Anavrinian."

"How do you know that?" Clarion looked utterly floored.

The Doctor smiled wanly. "You're looking at his cousin. Well, second cousin three times removed, but he never did forget to send me a birthday card. Swell chap, that one."

"But that would make you a…"

"Very old Gallifreyan geezer? Why yes it would, but don't go reminding me."

"It's an honor to meet one of you, sir," Clarion said respectfully, holding out his hand for the Doctor to shake.

"Oi, none of that 'sir' malarkey," the Doctor reprimanded, although he took the agent's hand anyway. "And Time Lords were no less honorable than Anavrinians, mind you that."

"I don't know about that, but thank you just the same, Doctor." Clarion glanced at River questioningly. "Hold on a minute. What you said about this being an inter-dimensional ship, and him being the pilot…"

"Ah, yes. Not the spiffiest time machine in existence, but then again she is a classic." The pride in the Doctor's voice was clear as day. "Would you like to see the rest of her?" He asked.

"I'd be delighted," Clarion responded, his violet eyes glimmering with anticipation.


	8. Lady Luck

**Just to warn you, I finished writing and editing this at 1:51 this morning. Which means my brain was mush, so please keep that in mind. Lol.**

**Reviews welcome regardless :)**

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"So River, what do you think of him?" Amy asked, patting Jenna's back rhythmically. They were in the TARDIS console room, the Doctor excitedly demonstrating and explaining the time machine's inner workings with complicated words only Clarion seemed to understand. He also, surprisingly, seemed to find it all exceedingly fascinating.

"He's alright, I suppose," River replied, attempting indifference as she pried Ian off her left leg. She didn't mention that she'd noticed that, when introduced to Amy, Clarion had looked at her no longer than what was polite before his interest turned to the children. Most men who met the ginger were captivated by her even after they learned she was spoken for. It was a pleasant change.

Just then Clarion's eyes met River's by chance from across the room, and he smiled. River leaned over and pretended to busy herself with Ian, her curls conveniently falling like a curtain over her face.

"Just alright?" There was an amused lilt to Amy's voice. She knew.

"Well yes, I mean, I only met him an hour ago. I barely know him," River hurried to say, maybe just a little too quickly.

"I guess we'll just have to fix that," Amy responded with a grin. Thankfully Jenna started fussing over a particularly stubborn air bubble at that moment, preventing her mother from saying anything else.

"He gets on splendidly with the Doctor, that's for sure," River remarked as she watched the two discuss the function of a control shaped like a Rubik's cube.

"The interesting bit is he actually seems to be keeping up. I've never seen anyone who was able to do that from the off."

"So that means he's either incredibly bright or terribly mental. Or both," River deduced with a touch of admiration.

Amy chuckled. "I hafta agree with you there."

"Wonderful news! Clarion here just agreed to show us around his home planet," the Doctor announced, suddenly appearing in front of them.

"It's the least I can do after the tour of this marvelous ship. I've never seen anything like it," Clarion said appreciatively. The Doctor beamed with pride.

"Oh it's okay, River. The Doctor can wear that this time," Amy spoke up quickly as River reached for Ian's carrier.

"Wait, what?" The Doctor didn't look too thrilled about this idea. When it came to new planets, he preferred to have the option of running around wherever he pleased. It was most difficult to do this when one had a baby strapped to their person.

Amy grabbed the carrier and thrust it into his arms. "Just put it on. Pretend it's cool or something," she told him, the tone in her voice warning him not to argue with her.

"But Amy…" There it was, the look that made him appear for a moment like a pouty boy instead of a nine-hundred-year-old man. He was far outmatched, however.

"Do. It."

Amy's words were followed by a form of silent eye communication that ended in the Doctor sighing and taking the carrier from his wife. She smiled triumphantly and pecked him on the cheek.

* * *

"Now I know what you're thinking, and you might as well forget it this instant," the Doctor said into Ian's ear as they stepped outside the TARDIS. "I may not be your mother, but as I've had to remind you before, I am the Doctor, a Time Lord, and the Oncoming Storm—all very good reasons why you are henceforth not allowed pummel me with your sharp little feet."

Ian only blew bubbles in response, and the Doctor rolled his eyes. He wasn't quite sure how his son had mastered kicking backward in a way that was mortally wounding—or so it felt. Problem was the child only seemed to enjoy doing it to him and no one else.

With the Doctor thus occupied and Jenna tucked into the sling across Amy's body, Clarion and River were left to walk side by side, as Amy's plan had been all along. They didn't seem to mind it, talking casually as they followed a pebbled path through fields of flowers similar to heather. The TARDIS had landed in some sort of forest, although the trees were not yet in bloom and bore a strong resemblance to the ones that populated Earth. The path that led out of it into the heather fields immediately wound up a steep hill, and coming to the top of it they were afforded a spectacular view.

The hills tumbled down to a great city that spanned nearly the entire valley and was clearly technologically advanced. Massive exhaust columns rose above even the highest buildings, but the steam they produced was golden, evaporating seamlessly into the atmosphere. And the trees—they were everywhere, growing in orchards all around the city, even within it, making the harvest a simpler affair. Silver streams threaded at will through the city and around it, giving life in abundance to the orchards that they passed.

The image would have been perfect if not for the grim, armored men that marched along the thoroughfares cutting through the city and the zeppelins hanging in the sky above, the exteriors of the airships clad in iron and as armored as the men below.

"That's Arbora. The pirates have complete control of it now, patrolling every day," Clarion explained, referring to the city. "A law was just passed that requires every person or group of travelers to carry a permit if they traverse the streets at any hour, and so far they've made true on enforcing it. If you're caught without one…the consequences are dire. Those who get caught generally are never seen again."

"Lovely lot, these pirates," the Doctor said with a low whistle. "Where'd they come from, anyway?"

"From all corners of the universe, apparently. They're part of one of the largest Pirate Confederations in the galaxies," Clarion replied.

"So, a ragtag group united, not by race or a shared culture, but for the sole purpose of controlling a planet. Interesting," the Doctor noted.

"Are you sure you want to continue on? Arbora is no longer safe for tourists. No longer safe for anyone, quite frankly." Remorse entered Clarion's voice once more.

"Sure I'm sure. Although…" the Doctor looked down at Ian, who was happily kicking away, and then to Amy and Jenna, concern in his eyes. Amy's gaze connected with his, and she understood what he was thinking right away.

"Oh no, sir. I'm comin' with ya whether you want me to or not," Amy said stubbornly, crossing her arms over Jenna. How someone like her could look so imposing, especially while wearing a baby sling, was still a mystery to the Doctor.

"Amelia…" the Doctor sidled up to her, pulling her arms apart and massaging the palms of her hands. His efforts were in vain.

"Don't you dare. We've been through this enough before."

"But they're pirates. Big nasty pirates who most likely have very poor hygiene and who knows what else."

"So what? We've come up against worse. And besides—" Amy's tone became conspiratorial "—real pirates, Doctor."

"Well they're not exactly the Peter Pan sort of pirates, Amy. These will kill you in a heartbeat," he answered, trying not to sound as excited as she was. Truth be told, he was dying to get a closer look.

"I know that. But I've never seen a pirate of any kind before in my life." Amy's eyes twinkled.

The Doctor shook his head, grinning weakly. "I'm half-set on rolling you up in bubble wrap and leaving you like that indefinitely, Amelia Pond."

"That would make snogging rather problematic, don't ya think?" Amy plucked at one of his buttons implicatively.

"May I remind you two that we happen to have company?"

River's pointed remark drew the Doctor and Amy out of the world they had begun to wander into. It was always best to head them off early.

"Well on the bright side, families are less of an interest to them, seeing as they don't pose much of a threat," Clarion spoke up. He didn't seem too perturbed by the Doctor and Amy's show of affection; in fact, there was something much like wistfulness in his expression when his gaze landed on them. It was a look River had worn many times as of late.

"But they're stopping people at the entrances, families or no," River noticed observantly.

"The only ways into the city that aren't monitored are the canals, although we'd need to commandeer a vessel," said Clarion, scratching his chin thoughfully.

"I believe that would suffice." The Doctor pointed towards the banks of the river they were passing, indicating a craft tied to a rickety dock. She was a cross between a houseboat and a miniature steamboat, complete with corroded, Victorian-esque copper stacks and a peeling red paddlewheel. _Lady Luck_ could just barely be read on her stern.

"What, so we're just going to steal someone's old boat?" Amy said, doubting the seaworthiness—or rather river-worthiness—of the _Lady Luck_.

"Steal it? Never. We're merely borrowing it for the next few hours," the Doctor replied over his shoulder. He had already started down the slope towards the dock, and the others had no choice but to follow.

Perhaps the craft had been aptly named, for she was completely deserted, albeit a little derelict. It was apparent that no one had sailed her for some time, and it was a wonder that the paddlewheel creaked to life when Clarion located the controls. It was no surprise, however, when he was automatically appointed captain.

"No offense, Doctor, but the nearer we get to the city, the more this feels like one of your less brilliant ideas," River told the Time Lord as the _Lady Luck_ chugged determinedly along.

"Yeah, you're probably right. But a peaceful planet in the clutches of merciless pirates just doesn't strike me as something that should be left alone. I think it's about time someone poked it with a stick."

"And if 'it' turns out to be a hornet's nest? Then what?"

"We run screaming for our lives."

"Inspired."

"Yes, I thought so too."


	9. An Unlucky Meeting

**Good news; my driver's side mirror has been replaced, and both painted so that they look exactly like they did before. Bad news; now the original paint on the hood is flaking off. Sigh. At least the body shop where I got the mirrors painted said they'd touch it up for no charge if I brought it by. I think I rather love them.**

**Sorry about taking so long. Upcoming things I have to tackle: working on my older sister's wedding portrait, attempting to get a job closer to home, and getting some progress done on my novel. Goodness.  
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**Please review! :)**

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Up close, Arbora wasn't quite as glamorous as they'd thought at first. The buildings were falling into disrepair, and the waterways were more like steel than silver, with rubbish floating in them in places. In the center of the city was a palace, built to impress as well as for functionality, but there was many a hole in the roof and panes missing from the windows that weren't boarded up.

"That used to be where the royal family of Anavrin dwelt, back in the days of the Kings. Before the pirates came and seized the government," Clarion elucidated. He stood at the stern of the ship, yet not where one could easily spot him from the walls of the canal, the wind ruffling his dark, silver-peppered curls.

"What happened to this royal family from the days of the Kings?" The Doctor asked interestedly. He had taken off the baby carrier for the duration of the voyage and was sitting cross-legged on the deck of the _Lady Luck_, Ian using his shoulder as a pull-up post. Not for the first time the boy's legs wobbled and gave out, and he ended up falling quite jubilantly into his father's lap.

Clarion's eyes turned a dusky shade of purple as unspoken memories flooded through his mind. "Murdered, the majority of them. Only one—or so they say—survived. A young prince who was no more than a boy at the time. The people believe he died by some way or another. A few think he's still alive, waiting to reclaim his throne."

"And where do you stand on the matter?" The Doctor questioned, curious.

Clarion hesitated before answering. "I think there is a possibility he's still alive, somewhere out there. Maybe he's afraid people think him a coward for not returning by now. Perhaps he actually is a coward."

"A coward? Have you _seen_ these pirates? And he's all on his own!" River protested, watching as a group of men in armor, each one of them roughly the size and shape of a gorilla and no doubt with the same mental capacity, pushed unlucky citizens out of their way while laughing raucously.

"Still, the people need someone. They've been waiting for salvation for twenty some years now."

"Twenty years is nothing in a nation's history. You'll have your hero soon, I'm sure," the Doctor commented as Ian tumbled, giggling, into his waiting arms for the hundredth time.

The conversation ended when the houseboat thumped against a dock at the heart of the city, just behind the abandoned, cathedral-like palace and obscured from sight by a crumbling wall. Clarion jumped out first and tied the ropes to the pilings, then held out his hand to help River onto the dock. Even though she didn't need it, she accepted the polite gesture.

"Can you imagine living in this place in its glory days?" Amy remarked once they were on land, gazing up in awe at the flying buttresses and cracked glass domes of the sprawling structure. The windows that stretched the entire height of the building's outlier walls were stained glass, and despite their disrepair it was clear that they had been crafted by a skilled artisan.

"Why don't the pirates occupy this place now? You think they would have been lured in by the luxury," River questioned, as impressed as Amy was.

"Marduk—the pirate King; the one who rules Anavrin now—thought it was far too expansive to defend properly. He chose the Parliament building instead for his headquarters." Clarion pointed downstream at a columned stone edifice that was squarish in shape and devoid of character. Located further from the waterline, it was protected by both an iron gate with spikes atop each post and a platoon of guards. "Not before he forced all the residents out of the palace and looted it, of course."

"That's the thing with pirates; they're always taking shiny stuff that doesn't belong to them. No originality whatsoever, no matter what planet you're on," the Doctor said with a disappointed shake of his head.

Clarion didn't respond. His attention was focused on something else entirely: a band of pirates swiftly approaching. There were only about five in total, but their size seemed to make them more threatening. They looked over and, catching sight of the unusual crew, diverted from their original route.

Instinctively, the Doctor pulled Amy and Jenna behind him. Likewise, Clarion stepped in front of River. His expression was impassive save the determined set of his jaw, communicating that he wished no trouble but would fight back if the need arose.

"Got a permit?" The burliest of the men spat gruffly. There was no attempt to hide the malice in his heartless eyes.

"Why yes we do. So glad you asked. Here you go," the Doctor said quickly, moving forward and whipping out his physic paper. The leader of the group grabbed it and brought it an inch away from his eyes. His brow creased, and he threw the little black wallet back at the Time Lord.

"You're free to go," the pirate told him reluctantly. "Better make it quick before I change my mind."

"Thank you—er—kind sir. Nice meeting you; we really should do this again sometime." Despite his projected cheerful manner, the Doctor was careful to remain as a shield between his companions and the pirates, spreading out his arms to herd them away. They were almost in the clear.

"Oi, hold up there. What's your name?"

The Doctor spun around, supposing that the pirate had been addressing him, and was surprised to find the man staring intently at Clarion as if trying to place him.

Clarion returned the gaze coolly, although if one looked closely they would be able to see his muscles tense ever so slightly. "Name's Grey," he answered, adopting a lower-class accent out of the blue.

"You look familiar."

"Maybe you've seen me 'round town. Been out lookin' for a job, but you can't get no work these days," Clarion invented on the spot.

The pirate considered this but then shook his head. "Nah, that's not it. You're gonna have to come with me."

Clarion made no move to obey the command. He glanced at the Doctor, who nodded almost imperceptibly. Then they both took off, pulling Amy and River with them.

"Halt! I said HALT!"

Silver bullets began flying past their heads, ricocheting off the already-pockmarked bricks of the palace. The sound only spurred them on. They vaulted over a retaining wall, pounding through what had once been manicured gardens but were now dismally overgrown. As they rounded the south wing, they lost sight of the pirates for a moment, although they could still hear their furious shouts as they drew nearer.

That's when the ground opened up beneath their feet without warning, and they all fell into darkness.

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**Marduk is the name of some Babylonian god who was associated with the planet Jupiter in their culture. I just thought it would make a good name for a pirate King lol. It's also the name of a Swedish black metal band, but we're just going to ignore that comparison.**


	10. The Underground

**Thanks for the awesome reviews, everyone. Keep 'em coming :)**

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The tunnel was dark and twisting, just barely sloping as it angled downward into the earth. No daylight penetrated it, leaving its occupants completely blind as they hurtled through it. At last they reached the end of the passageway, rolling several feet before coming to a complete stop.

"Amy! Amy, where are you?" The Doctor shouted immediately after coughing most of the dirt out of his lungs. The cavern was just about as dark as the tunnel had been, and the only thing he could hear was his son and daughter's indignant wailing.

"Yer sittin' on me, idiot," A disgruntled and very much Amy-ish voice said nearby.

"Ah, yes, sorry. I thought the ground seemed a bit too soft," the Doctor replied as he hastened to move.

"Are you calling me fat again?"

"Er, of course not, just the usual human…squishiness."

"_Squishiness?_"

"Never mind, never mind. Forget I said anything at all."

"Humph."

"Where are we?" River's voice echoed off the walls, and it was difficult to place exactly where she was in the gloom.

"The Underground, it appears. Our ancestors built these caverns and tunnel systems long ago, as a way out in case of siege. Fortunately the pirates aren't aware of it. The people speculate it's how the last prince escaped," Clarion explained once he had gotten his bearings.

"Is it just me or is it getting brighter in here?" Amy asked.

The cavern was indeed growing more gray than black. Suddenly a circle of light came into view from around the bend. As it drew nearer, the group saw that it was a torch, held aloft by a man in his fifties with a haggard expression on his face. He was accompanied by an equally-grim woman around the same age, her white hair braided into a coronet around her head. Although their clothing was patched, it was reasonably clean, as were the garments of the two men who flanked them. All four carried sharpshooters in holsters tied to their belts. Perhaps, the Doctor reasoned, it was a good sign that they weren't holding the weapons at the ready. He'd had enough of guns for one day.

"Welcome, strangers. We mean you no harm," the woman greeted, spotting River's hand flexing over her blaster. At close proximity they could see the scar, a memoir from a battle of some sort, stretching in a white line from her forehead to her cheek and dividing the edge of her right eyebrow in two.

"We witnessed your escape from the pirates and thought we'd lend a hand," the man contributed.

"And who exactly are you?" River asked, experience having taught her to be cautious in any situation.

"Ezra Taylor, leader of the Resistance. And this here's Ruth, my sister and second in command." Something caught the man's eye, and he brought the torch closer. "You best come with us, miss. Looks like a bullet clipped ya."

It wasn't until he said this that River felt a wet, sticky substance dripping down her arm. She inspected it and found a shallow gash in her shoulder that was nevertheless bleeding profusely. The adrenaline from the chase had dulled the pain until now. Left without another choice, she obediently followed Ezra and Ruth through the tunnel. Clarion insisted on ripping off a strip of material from the hem of his shirt and binding it tightly around the wound to stem the flow of blood. River was grateful for this; she had begun to feel lightheaded.

Their trek ended in what appeared to be a subterranean church. From what they'd seen thus far, the Doctor and his companions had gathered that the Underground was actually an entire city of its own, built beneath the canals. It was a marvel in of itself, especially taking into account how the great stone pillars held the weight of the Arbora and still remained largely intact despite their age.

"Who would have thought any of this was even down here?" Amy said in amazement, her eyes traveling over the room. The Doctor smiled and laced his fingers through hers.

"The Anavrinians are known for their top-notch architects. Or at least they were. Their work used to be as high in demand as the precious metal their trees produce," he informed, reveling in her wide-eyed wonder.

Clarion cracked a tired smile. "It's been many a year since I've heard that, friend. No one comes to Anavrin to commission our tradesmen these days."

"Ain't that the truth," Ezra spoke up, his eyes hard. "And all because of those accursed pirates."

"Blimey, you must have half the surface population down here. Why don't you just—you know—attack already?" The Doctor inquired, having observed a great number of citizens during their journey through the Underground.

Ezra shook his head. "Still not enough. T'would be a massacre."

"We have a prophecy dating back from the Age of the Ancients, one that many of our people put their faith in. It states that, in the darkest of hours, a savior will come forward and lead us to victory against our oppressors, into an age of peace," Ruth said, placing her torch in a beaten-silver bracket on a nearby pillar. "A prince; or so it is foretold."

"A Prince of Peace," the Doctor mused with a small smile. "Is this the same prince who is rumored to have escaped the big bad pirate invasion?"

Ruth nodded. "That is the general belief. We hope, for the people's sake, that it will come to fruition. But I would be lying if I were to say our hopes aren't wearing thin."

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"You honestly don't have to do this," River told Clarion, who was helping clean the injury sustained on her shoulder. One of the Underground's medics had checked it out beforehand and pronounced that it wasn't too serious.

"No, but I want to. Besides, I owe you for saving my life," Clarion answered as he finished wrapping the bandage and pulled her sleeve back down.

"That was mostly the Doctor's doing," River reminded.

"Not entirely," Clarion pointed out, smiling. It was an expression that always reached his violet eyes whenever he was looking at her. It was also infectious, apparently, for she couldn't stop herself from grinning in return most of the time.

"So, Clarion. Have you any family?" River asked. One couldn't fault her for her boldness.

"I did, once. But the pirates bereaved me of that when I was very young."

"I'm sorry. There's nothing more terrible than having loved ones stolen from you."

Clarion nodded. "I agree, although time proves to be the best balm for it." His gaze focused on hers and held it. "And what of you? Are you any relation to the Doctor or his wife?"

"Goodness, no. Although you might say they sort of adopted me. I never got a chance to know my actual family, exactly; I'm not really sure who my father was and my mother died shortly after I was born. My grandmother raised me, but of course she's gone now."

Clarion reached for her hand, and she felt heat rise in her cheeks. "It seems we both received the worse lot in life."

"Well, you were right about time. It's been a while since she died, so it doesn't hurt as much anymore."

There was a moment of contemplative silence for both of them.

"Are you—I mean, have you ever been…married?" It was not often that Clarion stumbled over words, and he tried his best to keep his composure.

"Never. Haven't met the right one, I guess. There are a lot of numskulls in this universe."

Clarion chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't give up completely. Not yet, anyway."

It was then that River realized how close they were. If she were to lean forward ever so slightly…

"River! How's the old arm feeling?"

Inevitably, the Doctor appeared out of nowhere, invading their secluded corner of the church. River sighed inwardly and pulled away.

"A good deal better now, thanks to Clarion," she answered.

"It wasn't too deep of a cut. Just close enough to an artery to make a right mess. She should be alright now though," Clarion expounded helpfully.

"Glad to hear it. Although you are looking a mite flushed, River. Maybe you should—"

"Doctor!"

Just then Amy marched up, looking none too pleased. "Ian got ahold of your screwdriver again," she told him.

The Doctor patted his pockets frantically. "Blast! The little pickpocket…" he exclaimed before stomping off in the direction of his son's mischievous chortling.

Amy paused for a moment to wink slyly at River before twirling around and following him.

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**So using a Babylonian name for the pirate King got me using biblical names for the Resistance leaders. And yes, that's also where the Prince of Peace reference came from :)**


	11. How To Find A Missing Prince

"Have you been giving him lessons or something?" The Doctor examined his screwdriver, tsking over the small bite marks on the metal.

"Lessons in what, exactly?" Amy asked distractedly as she fastened the snaps on their daughter's nappy.

"Being a troublemaker."

"Oi! Don't forget that he's your son too."

"Yes, yes, I know. Probably the worst combination, but what can you do."

"_Excuse _me?" Amy, who had just lifted Jenna up and put her over her shoulder, frowned at him. "Are you regretting having a family with me, mister?"

"Why would I?" The Doctor tucked the sonic back into his jacket pocket and smiled. Dropping onto the stone pew next to her, he raked back the curtain of ginger hair that had fallen into her indignant face. "Besides; for better or worse and all that."

"We didn't exactly say vows at our wedding, ya know."

"How do you know I wasn't thinking them?

"Because you didn't even know it _was_ a wedding at the time, you dolt."

The Doctor scratched the back of his head thoughtfully. "Ah…well, you may have a point there."

"Of course I have a point."

"Don't you always?"

"What're you trying to say?"

"Erm…you're right, dear."

"Are you just saying that to shut me up?"

"Not at all. Maybe a little."

Amy rolled her eyes. It was hard, however, to remain cross at him, especially with Jenna hiccupping into her shoulder. And the fact that he was kneading his fingers between the muscles at the top of her shoulder blades, releasing the tension that was constantly building up there. "So, this prince bloke. Do you suppose he'll show up anytime soon?" She asked, relaxing.

"I would assume so. A savior generally doesn't come until hopes are pretty much entirely dashed. It's rather stereotypical, but there you have it." The Doctor leaned over to grab Ian, who seemed to be intent on trying to tie his shoelaces together. Not that he knew how to yet, of course, although his father wouldn't put it past him.

"And we're just gonna stay down here and hide till he decides to make his appearance?"

"Well he may not be as far away as everyone thinks. Maybe he's somewhere within the Underground this very minute." The Doctor didn't mention anything about his reluctance to return to the surface. He couldn't get the image of silver bullets whizzing towards Amy out of his head, or the sight of blood pouring down River's arm. These pirates were more than he bargained for when it came to protecting his family.

"How are we supposed to know who he is, anyway? I mean, any ole fella could raise his hand and claim to be him," Amy mused.

"That's a mighty good question, miss." Ezra, who had wandered over during their conversation, sat down on the pew in front of them and turned so he was facing their direction. "There's a birthmark that runs in the Anavrinian royal family, reportedly shaped like the Star of the East and located just below the left shoulder blade. Also, there's an amphitheater at the heart of the Underground that houses the Sword of Emet, which is sealed in marble and can only be retrieved by a true heir to the throne. But even with that he won't be able to take his place as king unless he's already chosen a prospective queen."

"Prospective queen? What's that about?" The Doctor asked inquisitively.

"It's an ancient Anavrinian law, kept since anyone can remember. We feel an unmarried king could be too easily swayed. A queen at his side making the decisions with him creates a fairer balance," Ezra explained.

"Sounds like a brilliant idea to me," Amy chimed in approvingly. "I wouldn't mind that job."

"May I remind you that you aren't available for that job, Pond," the Doctor told her.

"Well aren't you just a little raincloud."

"When I have to be, yes."

Amy made a face.

"Does the pirate King know about the prince?" The Doctor continued, ignoring her. He pulled Ian's tiny hands out of his pockets and plopped the boy on his lap so he was facing the Resistance leader, in order to dissuade further mischief.

"Marduk? If he does, he regards it as little more than folklore. He's confident that he wiped out the entire royal line during his takeover," said Ezra. "Although Sirrush is far from convinced."

"Sirrush?"

"Marduk's Secretary of War. He's quite influential, albeit often suspicious of everything and everyone. They've had it out on more than one occasion, and each have their own share of loyal followers. They always smooth it over, but I wouldn't be surprised if either division or usurpation was in store for Marduk."

"A house divided, eh? Could be advantageous for you lot in the near future."

Ezra nodded. "That's what we reckon."

Just then Ruth called Ezra over for a conference with a group of men who had recently entered the church, leaving the Doctor and Amy alone once more.

Amy leaned over. "So what's the plan?" She whispered conspiratorially.

"We convince the prince to come out of hiding."

"What, that's it?"

"Dunno; haven't had proper time to think, especially with this itty bitty rogue trying to rob me of everything I have on my person. For now it is."

"And how are we supposed to find this prince, exactly?"

"Shouldn't be too hard. We can form a search party with River and Clarion."

"So you think he's somewhere down here in this maze."

"Almost positive."

Amy narrowed her eyes. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No, of course not." The Doctor looked at her intently. "You wouldn't really prefer an Anavrinian prince to me, would you?"

"Hmm. Depends on how much money he's got."

"Amelia!"

"Kidding! Honestly." Amy grinned. "Besides, an Anavrinian prince most likely wouldn't watch both our children while I went to look for a loo."

"Precisely! Hold on…"

"Thanks so much for volunteering." Amy planted a quick kiss on the lips of a very bewildered Doctor before depositing Jenna in the arm that wasn't wrapped around Ian and skipping away.

"Amy! Amelia! Amelia Jessica Pond, you get back here!" He shouted after her, although his words went unheeded. As if on cue, Ian started to squirm in an effort to escape, and Jenna began fussing. It was time to initiate Plan B. "RIVEERRR!"

"Good grief, Doctor, I bet even the pirates heard that! Whatever is the matter?" River asked, appearing a moment later with Clarion on her heels.

"Amy went off to find a loo," the Doctor said simply, if not desperately, as he struggled to keep a grip on both his son and daughter.

River rolled her eyes and relieved him of Ian. "They're just babies; they won't kill you."

"As far as you know."

"Of all the fathers I've ever met, you are the most hopelessly inept. Shouldn't you have more experience with this after nine hundred years?" River questioned.

"Not with two at once. It's plain madness."

"Something you are quite familiar with, I'm sure." River kissed the top of Ian's fluffy head, and he smiled innocently, his dimples showing. The Doctor, however, was not fooled.

"Well as long as you're here, might as well tell you Amy and I have decided to start a search for the missing prince. Care to join us?"

River shrugged. "Don't know how you expect to find him with all the people who are down here, but alright."

"Clarion? What'd you say, mate?"

Clarion seemed more hesitant. "Are you sure you want to find him?"

"It's either that or figure out if you Anavrinians have a game even faintly similar to Chinese checkers, because it doesn't look like we're getting back to the TARDIS anytime soon with those gorillas milling all over the place up there."

"Then I suppose I'm in, if River is."

"Brilliant! Now, who wants to go inform Amy that they don't have indoor plumbing underground?"

* * *

**A 'sirrush', or **_**mušḫuššu,**_** is actually a mythological hybrid of dragon, eagle, and some sort of feline. It's depicted on the reconstructed Ishtar Gate of the city of Babylon**. **And I thought it sounds cool. Lol.  
**

**Thanks for reading, reviews more than welcome! :)  
**


	12. Return of the King

**So I was pretty mad after posting the last chapter of this, because FanFiction net freaked out and wouldn't let me do some final edits. I couldn't access any of my Doctor Who stories, as a matter of fact. Had to get around it by starting a new story. Sorry for the inconvenience.  
**

**Anyway, sorry this took so long. I fear I may have to put this story on hiatus until I get further in my novel, which makes me quite glad none of you know the exact location of my house. I'd rather you guys not get those torches and pitchforks out again. Lol ;)**

**What I wanted to say at the end of the last chapter is that 'emet' means 'truth' in Hebrew. Ergo, 'Sword of Truth'.**

**That is all for now.**

**Please review :)**

* * *

The maze of tunnels that wound throughout the Underground was considerably complex, but the Doctor seemed to have worked out which way they needed to go to reach the heart of it all. And whenever he started veering off in the wrong direction, Clarion was able to correct him. River walked beside the Anavrinian, Ian strapped to her front; she figured his father needed somewhat of a break. Jenna was still with Amy, tucked away from view in her sling.

"So what are we looking for, exactly?" River questioned, gazing around her in amazement as they crossed a well-structured stone bridge at least one hundred feet in the air. An underground river rushed below, its waters reflecting off the gold and silver-veined cavern walls in the dim light.

"The key to the Anavrinians' freedom. Well, it's not exactly a key; that is to say, it's a sword. The Sword of Emet, to be precise."

"According to Ezra, this sword thing can only be claimed by the heir to the throne," Amy added, lacing her arm through the Doctor's.

"Then how will us going there help matters?" River asked perplexedly.

"Dunno. Just thought we could get a look-see, perhaps figure out how to find the prince from it."

"Not much of a plan."

"I thought it was better than a plan, actually. Has more..greatness to it."

River shook her head. "Alright then, who was this Emet?"

The Doctor glanced back at Clarion. "I'm sure Mr. Grey could explain that better than I, seeing as he's from here," he replied.

"Emet was a king," Clarion began, the tale coming easily to his tongue. There was not an Anavrinian alive who didn't know of it. "The very first king of Anavrin. He was the first to bring the entire planet under one government, and make its name well-known in the realms of trade. The sword was a gift from the best metalsmith in Anavrin, forged from silver and gold intertwined and, so legend has it, enchanted so that none could grip the hilt except a member of the royal family. It is said that, if anyone else attempts to wield it, the hilt grows hot to the touch and will burn the skin."

"Personally I think you lot would do fine with a Magic 8 Ball instead—I mean honestly all you'd have to do is ask it 'am I the prince?' and you'd have your answer, no burning involved—but I suppose a sword is just as good," the Doctor mused.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, you can really build a serious history on a Magic 8 Ball. Imagine writing that into a schoolbook."

"Well the Durdums did it, and they don't seem to have an issue with it. Then again they rather closely resemble magenta balls of fluff, so that's not saying too much…"

"Sometimes I wonder if you just make this stuff up."

"Of course not. I'd take you to see them, but they're not exactly the brightest race, per se. Last time I visited they got it into their tiny brains to sacrifice me to this Magic 8 Ball of theirs. Apparently they're under the impression it's some kind of god or something. Quite a fascinating experience, I must say. Especially since their average height is the length of my shoe; it didn't quite go the way they planned, bless their little hearts."

Amy stared at him in disbelief, resolving to hold her tongue in future.

At last they reached the great amphitheater Ezra had spoken of. It was the largest cavern they had seen yet, the stone carved into rings of seats that descended towards a stone stage. Fixtures fashioned from silver to look like trees surrounded the theater, giving off soft light from the apple-shaped orbs suspended from their spindly branches.

In the center of the stage was a column of marble, completely smooth aside from an eyelevel inscription encircling it, the symbols a language unknown to Amy and River. The Doctor hopped up on the stage, avoiding the steps altogether, and ran his fingers over the carvings.

"So where's the sword?" Amy asked, taking the safer route the stairs provided. She leaned against the column next to the Doctor and adjusted the strap on Jenna's sling, tired from the journey through the Underground.

"According to this, it's right here. At the heart of this column," the Doctor answered.

Amy backed away from the pillar and examined it. "Funny sort of place to keep a sword," she remarked.

"It seems only the true heir can retrieve it from within," the Doctor continued. "Just as I thought."

"Then why did we bother coming all this way if we can't even see it?" River asked, mildly disappointed.

"Or can we?" The Doctor turned on Clarion. "You said the prince escaped when he was a boy, some twenty years ago. Exactly how old was he?"

Clarion hesitated. "Around ten or eleven, I suppose."

"And how old are you?"

A longer pause. "Thirty one." Clarion seemed unable to meet the Doctor's penetrating gaze.

The Doctor moved closer, his voice low and solemn. "So answer me this, Clarion. Why is the prince so afraid of claiming his throne?"

Finally Clarion looked up, his violet eyes morose and lackluster. "I believe you already know the answer. Because I'm a coward."

* * *

Amy hadn't thought a nearly-empty subterranean amphitheater could become any quieter, but in that moment she was proved wrong. Shocked by this revelation, she looked over at River and noted that the woman shared a similar expression.

"_You're_ the missing prince?" River was still gaping, and she looked slightly annoyed with herself for not figuring it out earlier.

Clarion dropped his gaze again. "I had to adopt the surname Grey after I went into hiding. My birth name is Ravid Hosea Clarion Swift. Clarion was the name used by my parents—before their death, that is."

"Why didn't you tell us? We did save your life, ya know," Amy said pointedly.

"I was ashamed of being too afraid to return, to at least attempt saving my people. I've been fooling myself for twenty years that Clarion Grey was an entirely different person, one who wasn't responsible for Anavrin or the throne. Once I acquired my own galaxy ship and assumed a cover as a freelance time agent, it was easier to believe the lie."

River slid her hands through Clarion's, squeezing them. "And what do you believe now?" She questioned, her intelligent blue eyes set on his violet ones.

"That I'm the rightful king of Anavrin and that the throne will be mine again." Clarion smiled. "Anything seems possible as long as I have you with me."

"Good, because I don't plan on leaving quite yet," said River, edging closer. Amy had taken Ian and his carrier from her a second before, having been prodded to do so by her intuition. It was rarely wrong.

"Alright then! Might as well hop to it, Clari-boy! All you have to do is place your hand on the column and the sword should—oh honestly, must we do that now?"

Clarion and River went right on kissing, ignoring him entirely. The Doctor's impatience was exceedingly evident.

Amy grabbed onto his arm, preventing him from interrupting. "Hold up there, buster. Let them alone."

"But the sword, and the pirates, and…how are they even doing that? Do they breathe out their ears?" The Doctor harrumphed.

"If the sword and the pirates have waited twenty years, they can wait a few more minutes, Doctor."

"But—"

Amy placed a finger over his mouth, shushing him. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this to happen. Don't spoil it for me."

For Amy's sake, at least, the Doctor waited, his foot tapping, until the pair had broken apart. "If you two are quite through…" he said, gesturing towards the marble column.

Clarion grinned sheepishly and stepped towards it. He placed his hand on its smooth, cold surface and moved back.

The column shuddered. Quite unexpectedly it crumbled, the marble tumbling to the floor in pieces. When the dust cleared, a bejeweled golden hilt could be seen sticking out of what was left of the column, glimmering in the pale light.

Without hesitation Clarion stepped forward again and grabbed the sword by its handle, and it slid out of the pedestal as if the marble was nothing more than butter. The blade was, as legend had foretold, silver and gold entwined, two-edged and tapering at the end into a still-sharp point. The hilt fit well in Clarion's hand, leaving his skin unscathed. It was a moment worthy of a hallelujah chorus; or so Amy thought.

"After you, Your Majesty," the Doctor said with a satisfied smile, waving towards the steps leading down from the stage.

Taking him up on this, Clarion led the way out of the amphitheater with the Sword of Emet in one hand and River's hand firmly clasped in the other.

* * *

**To those who figured out Clarion was the missing prince long before this chapter, my hat off to you. If I had a hat...**

**Notes- Ravid means 'wanderer' and Hosea means 'salvation', and both are Hebrew. Thought it fit well.  
**


	13. Queen Candidate

**So Fanfiction is pretty much determined to not let you guys get updates on this story lol. Couldn't log for a while because of an 'error'. Sigh. At least I was able to fix it so the story's all together now.  
**

**Thanks for reading, please review! :)**

* * *

"So why were you so sure Clarion was the prince? All of those things coulda just been coincidences," Amy said as they passed through yet another dark tunnel. Clarion and River were further ahead, the sword glimmering like a torch.

The Doctor reached out to keep Amy from tripping over some stones her eyes had missed before answering. "I wasn't; not absolutely. I figured I might as well take a stab at it anyway. Worst I could have gotten was an awkward look, and I'm quite used to those."

"No kidding. Imagine having to live with you."

"I don't see a problem. I get along just spiffy with myself."

"Of course you do."

The Doctor grinned obliviously and wrapped his arm around her waist, making her forget any irritation she may have harbored towards him.

"Do you think they'll accept him? I mean, he has been gone for twenty years," Amy remarked, stroking the chub under Ian's chin and making him chortle gleefully.

"No way of telling. But the Anavrinians are particularly pious when it comes to their prophesies, so that should count for something."

By the time they neared the stone church, a crowd had begun to gather. It most likely had to do with the sight of Clarion carrying their legendary sword, a sword that all of them had visited in hopes of being the prophesied savior, as easily as if it had always been in his possession. He walked with his head bowed, not a trace of pride in his expression or posture. Knowing he was bearing the shame of having abandoned his people, River squeezed his hand once more to reassure him, and he glanced at her for a moment and smiled gratefully.

Ezra and Ruth were waiting for them in the courtyard of the church, having been alerted beforehand. Their eyes were set on Clarion as he approached, as if blinking would erase him from existence. When the prince at least drew abreast of them, they stood there facing each other, neither party speaking for what seemed ages.

"Are you truly he?" It sounded as if Ezra was having a hard time believing it himself. He'd waited so long for this moment, but he had been expecting something different, someone a good deal more imposing than this medium-built, unassuming man before him.

In reply, Clarion thrust the sword into the mortar between the stone tiles of the floor and shrugged out of his jacket. He pulled his shirt over his head, turning his back to the freedom fighter. The star-shaped mark stood out against his skin like a beacon in the dark: the final proof of his birthright.

"Cut it out, Doctor!" Amy hissed as the Doctor unsuccessfully tried to put his hand over her eyes to block the view of a shirtless and sufficiently-muscled Clarion. "It's not like he took off his pants too, for goodness sake."

"Can't be too careful," the Doctor said, his breath hot on her ear. If there was even the smallest chance in Amy's mind of an appreciative thought for Clarion's frame, it was quickly chased away by the nearness of the Doctor. His familiar scent still had an intoxicating effect on her.

"You really have no need to worry, you big dope," Amy murmured, her lips tickling his neck. A flush crept over his skin.

Convinced at last that Clarion was the lost prince, Ezra dropped to his knee in a subservient bow. Ruth followed suit a second later, along with the rest of the citizens of Anavrin who were present. When Clarion glanced in his direction, the Doctor saluted him and grinned.

"And this is the queen candidate, I presume," Ruth spoke up when everyone had returned to a standing position.

River looked around on all sides of her before realizing Ruth was referring to her. She opened her mouth to correct the assumption, but at that moment Clarion caught her hand.

"I know we haven't known each other very long, River Song, but I feel like I've known you my entire life. I don't want to let this go; don't want to lose you. Would you please consider it?" He implored.

"But…" River glanced at the Doctor and Amy. "I couldn't just leave you guys…or the TARDIS…all those worlds out there I haven't yet seen…I can't." She tried to pull away, but Clarion held fast. He lifted her chin so that their eyes met. River knew it wasn't a wise idea; she was transfixed immediately.

"I can be all that for you, River. I can take you anywhere you want to go in the universe, even in time," Clarion said gently, referring to the vortex manipulator still fastened around his arm. "There are so many places I've been that I'd love to show you."

River hesitated. "But the kingdom. Anavrin. Surely you couldn't leave it that often?"

"That's where the vortex manipulator comes in handy. It's pretty accurate when it comes to ending up in the exact place and time you're after."

"Well that sounds nice, ending up exactly where you planned on going. Don't ya think, Doctor?" Amy said pointedly, jabbing him in the side with her elbow.

"Sounds rather boring, actually. You'd thoroughly lose the element of surprise," the Doctor answered dismissively.

His wife rolled her eyes. "There isn't _supposed_ to be an element of surprise."

"Nonsense. Where's the fun in that?"

Amy didn't bother with answering. Instead she pulled River aside.

"Now listen, River. You know as well as I do that, deep down, you want this more than anything. Don't think I've been missing all those wistful glances of yours whenever the Doctor and I are together," the ginger reprimanded.

"But…"

"Oi, no buts about it. You can either be lonely for the rest of your life on the TARDIS or stay with Clarion and finally find out what it's like to be completely happy."

"I just…I've never done this sort of thing, Amy. I'm not sure if I'm the settling-down type."

"Who said anything about settling down?" Amy chuckled. "I've certainly never done it, and I don't plan to for a good long while. Besides, you'd be a queen. Who can beat that?"

River looked back at Clarion, her mind half made up. "Are you sure you lot would be alright? You wouldn't have anyone to watch Ian and Jenna for you if I stayed."

"We'll be fine. And we could always drop them by whenever we need some alone time."

"Knowing you two, that'd be just about every three days, if not less."

"Oh, shut it. Go get yourself your prince," Amy said, spinning River around by the shoulders. "Just make sure we're invited to the wedding," she whispered in her ear before giving her a slight shove towards Clarion.

"Have you decided?" The man asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

River nodded. "I have, although it seems there are quite a few people who are intent on deciding for me." She narrowed her eyes at the Doctor and Amy, who merely smiled innocently and waved.

Clarion's face broke into a dazzling smile, and he pulled her into an embrace, lifting her feet off the ground and kissing her shamelessly in front of the entirety of the Underground residents. They didn't appear to mind in the least; a cheer rose up from the throng, magnified as it echoed off the stone walls.

Ezra clapped his hands. "People of Anavrin, the time of deliverance is nigh! Our king has returned to us at last, with a queen at his side. Let us now regain what was taken from us so many years ago!"

Shouts of affirmation answered the freedom fighter's words; the people's faith had been restored to them.

"Right, well, it seems like you have all of this under control now, so we'll just be on our way. Don't forget to ring us when the wedding day comes round. I do love weddings, although I do warn you I really only come for the dancing," the Doctor remarked, looping his arm through Amy's and starting to leave.

"Please stay for a little while longer, Doctor. The people may believe we can win this merely because I'm leading them, but I am not nearly as convinced. I could use your help."

The Doctor's expression grew stony. "Sorry, Clarion, but I try not to get involved in wars. Too much killing going on in them for my taste."

"I don't mean I want you to fight. I just need an advisor. Marduk was very keen on disposing of all who used to counsel my father, and there is no one else I trust more."

"He's dafter than I thought," Amy muttered jokingly to the Doctor.

"Well I suppose we could stick around for a bit, at least until the wedding. I do have some ideas involving this Sirrush character," the Doctor mused, ignoring Amy's comment.

Clarion was clearly relieved. "Thank you, Doctor. You don't know how much I appreciate it."


	14. A Plan of Sorts

Seeing as the TARDIS was miles away in some Anavrinian forest, the Doctor and Amy were given living quarters within the Underground. The apartment was modestly-sized, with two rooms and, despite what the Doctor had said about no indoor plumbing, a bathroom. Even though everything was made from stone, it was quite comfortable.

"About time we got our first flat," Amy joked as she laid Ian and Jenna down for their naps.

"What do you call the TARDIS, then?" The Doctor asked from the doorway behind her. He wasn't quite sure if he liked how—domestic—this arrangement felt.

"Well it's more like a camper, yeah? Or a mobile home."

"A bit roomier, though."

Amy tucked the blanket around Jenna's sleeping form and turned around to face the Doctor. Seeing his expression, she laughed. "Don't worry; I still like living in the TARDIS. For one thing you don't have to pay rent."

"So you've never wanted your own flat, or maybe a house? Something actually grounded?" The Doctor asked, not entirely convinced. They started for their room, closing the door softly behind them.

Amy thought about this. "Maybe, back when I was living with Aunt Sharon. But even then I would have taken the TARDIS over a place of my own any day. Like I told River, I don't plan on actually settling down for a good while."

The Doctor stuffed his hands in his pockets, his eyes downcast. "You deserve so much more than what I have to offer you, though."

Amy stopped in her tracks, causing the Doctor to halt as well. "Honestly, how thick do you have to be to not understand that I don't _want_ anything else? All I need is you. You could offer me Clarion's palace in its glory day and I still wouldn't take it." She planted her hands on either side of his chest, the steady beat of his twin hearts pulsing beneath her palms, her red fingernails indenting into the material of his shirt ever so slightly.

The Doctors hands reached up and wound around her slender, pale wrists, sliding her arms up to wrap around his neck. Their lips met at the same moment her back collided with the wall, moving together seamlessly. She wrapped her legs around his waist, not caring about the rough stone of the wall that was digging into her back, intensely aware of the presence of a bed only a few yards away.

Just then, however, there was a knock on the apartment door. The couple broke apart, sighing in disappointment.

"Want me to try to get rid of them?" The Doctor asked her huskily, resting his forehead against hers.

Amy would be lying if she were to say she wasn't sorely tempted by this idea. "It might be important," she told him, reason winning out.

"Can't be. The galaxies could be imploding and it still wouldn't be as important as this," the Doctor replied, kissing all the way down to the tip of her nose.

Amy nearly conceded, but the knocking resounded once again, more insistent this time. Unwillingly she disentangled herself from the Doctor, allowing him to answer the door.

"I was starting to think no one was home." Ruth was standing outside the apartment, arms crossed. Both the Doctor and Amy started straightening their clothes self-consciously, which only made it more evident. The woman's right eyebrow went up.

"Right, sorry about that. Just…settling in," the Doctor invented lamely.

"Well I came to let you know that Prince Clarion is requesting your presence," Ruth announced.

"Erm, thank you," the Doctor said, adjusting his bowtie and stepping outside the dwelling to follow her.

"Wait! I want to come too," Amy said, grabbing his arm.

"What about Ian and Jenna?" The Doctor asked, none too keenly. As far as war was concerned, even the planning of it, he preferred it if his family was uninvolved.

"We have several able women who would be happy to serve as nurse for them. I can summon one if you wish," Ruth offered.

"Sounds good to me," Amy spoke up before the Doctor could refuse. He gave her a disapproving look, but she only beamed at him.

Five minutes later found them trailing behind Ruth through the tunnels of the Underground, Amy marching along triumphantly beside the Doctor, her sneakers making muffled thumping noises against the stone ground. He couldn't pretend he didn't enjoy her company, even when she was trying her best to spite him.

Ruth took them to a vast hall where meals were generally served that was being used temporarily as a meeting room for Clarion and his new generals. The men were older and battle-weathered, but they were also wise, having learned from experience the cost of war. They all sat around one of the large round tables, attentive on their leader. River sat at his right hand, just as involved in the meeting as he was.

"Glad you could come, Doctor. Amy," Clarion said as they entered the room.

"We do enjoy being invited to things," the Doctor responded, bounding over and sitting at the table as if it was a party. Amy slid in next to him. "Now, what did we miss?"

"We were just discussing Marduk's weaknesses. You've already pointed out that Sirrush may be one of them," Clarion replied.

"Ah, yes. Ever heard the saying 'A house against itself cannot stand'? Insert 'government' where 'house' is and you get the idea. There's a division in the house at the moment, and if that gap were to be widened…"

"…Then it'd be easier to take back the government," Clarion finished. He massaged his chin thoughtfully. "It's a good place to start. But how do we do it?"

"Someone has to get in there. Convince Sirrush that Anavrin should be his, and not Marduk's."

"And how are we supposed to do that? Have you forgotten how we got down here in the first place?" River said skeptically.

"Find out what his favorite haunts are, the kind of people he allows near him. There's got to be a way in somehow," the Doctor answered.

"He's well-known for frequenting the bars on High Street, although he's rarely alone," One of the other advisors contributed.

"But who do we send to do the job?" Another advisor queried. "Most of the residents of the Underground have prices on their heads. It's why they're here in the first place."

"Me, of course. I'm quite good at talking people up, if I do say so myself," the Doctor volunteered.

"More like talking people's ears off," Amy spoke up. "I'll go too."

"No you will not, Amelia," the Doctor said quickly.

"Why not?"

"It's a bar, for one."

"What, you don't think I've been in a bar before?"

"Not a rough alien one, no."

"They're all basically the same, ya know."

"I said no, Amy."

Amy smiled and patted his cheek. "You do realize that even if you forbid me to go, I'll still figure out a way around it and probably get into worse trouble than if you let me come with you, right?" She said sweetly.

"It might be better if she comes with you," Clarion told the Doctor. "Sirrush prefers female company, and he may let his guard down more."

"Besides, I'd rather not find out how much trouble she's able to cause if she stays down here," River remarked, only half-jokingly.

The Doctor opened his mouth and then shut it again, still clearly against the idea. But he couldn't deny there was something in what they were saying. "Fine, okay. You can come with me. But don't think I won't keep an extra close eye on you. No running off, and don't even think about touching that Anavrinian brew. It's fatal to humans; doesn't agree with your digestive system at all."

"What am I, five?"

"And absolutely no flirting with pirates."

Amy rolled her eyes.

"Do you want to come or not?"

"Alright, alright. No running off, no drinking, and no flirting. Takes all the fun out of everything, but whatever."

"Atta girl," the Doctor said contentedly, patting her leg. Ignoring the tingling feeling his touch produced, she crossed her arms on the table and did her best to look irked with him. "Right, so we might as well get a head start and go tonight. Come along, Pond. We need to…get ready."

* * *

As they were heading back to their apartment, Amy's curiosity won out. "What did you mean, 'get ready'?" She asked.

"Oh that? That was just a cover."

"A cover for what?"

"Well if I said what we were really going to be doing, it might have made the meeting just a tad awkward." As if to explain what he meant, the Doctor brushed aside her fiery tresses and kissed the back of her neck.

Amy grinned, a shiver going down her spine. "Ah, yes. We do have some unfinished business to attend to, don't we?"

The Doctor chuckled into her hair in response.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, please review :)**


	15. Pirate's Fancy

**Reviews please! :D**

* * *

"No."

"Oh come on, Doctor."

"I said no and I meant it. You are NOT leaving this apartment wearing _that._"

Amy looked down at her dress, which had been loaned to her from one of the Underground women so she could blend in better when she and the Doctor went to speak with Sirrush. Following the typical Anavrinian fashion, it had originally been ankle-length, belted around the middle and with a bodice that laced up to a widely-cut collar. Amy, however, had felt too frumpy in it. She'd somehow found a pair of scissors—where, exactly, the Doctor had no idea—and hacked the hem of the skirt up to just above the knee. Then she'd belted it so that it was even shorter, revealing quite a bit of leg.

"What's wrong with it?" She asked innocently.

The Doctor gaped. "What's wrong with it? You're going to have every man within a five mile radius after you before we even get to High Street."

"And apparently you have a problem with that." Amy straightened his ever-present bowtie, letting her fingers graze the skin of his neck tantalizingly.

"Of course I do. You're advertising something that already belongs to someone else. Namely; me."

Amy rolled her eyes. "No need to make such a fuss," she said, although she did lower the skirt so that it hit closer to the kneecap.

Still not entirely satisfied, the Doctor pulled taut the laces over her chest that she had left loose. Amy sighed.

"Happy now?" She asked.

"I suppose it will have to do," he replied, tapping her nose.

Although she tried her best to look annoyed, Amy was secretly glad he was making a fuss over her. It told her that, despite how long they'd been together, he'd not yet tired of her, that he was as much in love with her as he had been in the beginning. That was the good thing about the Doctor; he may have been unreliable at times—mostly unintentionally—but he was loyal.

"So can we go now?" Amy asked impatiently.

"Hold on. One more thing." Grabbing her by the shoulders, he crashed his lips into hers so hard she gasped, taken by surprise. Just as she was relaxing into his arms, hungry for more, he pulled away. "Alright. Now we can go," he said, his eyes twinkling as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him out the door of the apartment.

* * *

Sirrush was in his mid-forties, with sleek, dark hair that was going gray and braided at the nape of his neck. He had high cheekbones and slightly-slanted, piercing brown eyes, putting one in mind of a Native American. There was a gold hoop glinting in one ear, the same ear that was missing the top bit from a long-ago swordfight. Despite his age, traces of his youth still remained in his physique, and even in the crowded bar his eyes followed the ladies who passed him.

All these women faded from his notice, however, when he caught a flash of brilliant orange in the corner of his eye. She was slim and beautiful, with legs that went on forever in a dress that was dangerously short by Anavrin society's standards. Not that Sirrush minded. Even if she'd been dressed properly he would have been captivated by her wavy locks of ginger hair, for it was such a rare color amongst the locals and one he loved best of all. He tried to catch her eye—emerald-green, another pleasant change from the amethyst irises of the city's inhabitants—but the moment she saw him she turned to a man with floppy, buffoonish hair who was dressed in the most ridiculous assortment of clothing the Secretary of War had ever seen.

Sirrush knew at once what they were, from the way she touched his arm, how they communicated with their eyes, the very little distance they kept from each other. Not that it bothered him; if there was one thing he liked, it was a challenge.

The buffoonish man's gaze alighted on Sirrush, and he smiled amiably. The gesture was not returned; this man possessed something the pirate wanted, and therefore being friendly to him was far from his mind. He crossed his bare arms and leaned against the bar, waiting for the couple to reach him, which they seemed intent on doing.

"Evening!" The Doctor chirped. "Lovely, erm, night out, very…breezy."

Sirrush only stared at him, his expression unchanged.

"So! What's good here, eh? This looks…delicious." The Doctor eyed Sirrush's drink warily. It seemed to be glowing green.

Amy rolled her eyes at the Doctor's efforts, deciding to take matters into her own hands. "Hi there, my name's Amy. What's yours?" She said sweetly, batting her lashes and swaying closer.

"Sirrush," the man said readily, opening up a little more. The Doctor coughed and narrowed his eyes at his wife, looking none too happy. She pretended not to notice.

"That's a nice name. Fits you well," Amy simpered.

Sirrush smiled, clearly favoring her. "You're not from around here, are you?" He asked her, turning so that the Doctor was forced out of the conversation.

Amy shook her head. "Nope. Been here and there. I like to experience…new things."

The Doctor looked ready to kill her.

"Is that so?" Sirrush leaned in, his fingertips dancing across hers ever so discreetly on the counter. It was not, however, missed by the Doctor.

"Yes, we do like to travel. _Together_," the Time Lord said pointedly, moving so he was facing Sirrush again.

The pirate scowled at him, regarding him as if he was no more than an irritating fly. Suddenly he snapped his fingers, and two burly pirates appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the Doctor under his arms.

"Hang on, what do you two think you're doing? Wait just one minute, I believe you fellows have the wrong man! And by the way, you have _very_ bad breath…Amy, help me out here!" The Doctor fought against their grip, but to no avail. They dragged him like a ragdoll through the throng, who didn't give him so much as a curious glance. Apparently an occurrence like this was commonplace.

Sirrush turned back to Amy, his hand sliding up her arm. "Now, where were we?"

Amy grinned sultrily, masking the unease she felt now that the she didn't have the Doctor right beside her. She wasn't exactly fond of tricking him like this, but she knew it was the only way to carry out their plan.

"We were talking about you. I hear you're an excellent soldier," she flattered.

Sirrush nodded as if this went without saying.

"Some even say—" Amy leaned in conspiratorially—"That you should be running this planet, not Marduk."

"Do they?" Sirrush was silent for a moment. "It would be a wiser choice, I must admit."

"A much better choice, in my opinion. You're ten times the man he is." Amy tucked a lock of hair slowly behind her ear, an action that garnered the pirate's full focus. "Besides, I've heard rumors that he plans on getting rid of you. I suppose he's afraid of you being more powerful and charismatic than he."

Sirrush bristled at this. "Well he won't get away with it. He's nothing compared to me."

"Nothing at all. 'King Sirrush' has a nice little ring to it, don't you think? Any woman would be lucky to be your queen."

"It does indeed." Sirrush smiled, revealing a few gold teeth. "And I'd be more than happy to give you the job."

Amy giggled, assuming at first that he was merely stringing her along. "You're too kind, _Your Majesty_," she said, enunciating the last two words.

"I mean it."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm afraid I have to decline."

"Because of the buffoon?" Sirrush suddenly grabbed her wrists, jerking her closer to him and preventing her from escaping. She winced as his grip tightened. "Forget about him, Amy. You could have a king instead."

"No, really, I can't…"

Her protests were swiftly disregarded by Sirrush, who only had one thing on his mind. "It's a little crowded in here. Let's go somewhere a little more…private."

He was close enough that Amy could smell the alcohol on his breath, and her heart started beating frantically. For once she wished she'd listened to the Doctor.

"No, listen—"

Sirrush didn't even hear her. He was already pulling her along with him, his fingers closed around her wrists so tightly he was cutting off the circulation. Stubbornly she dug her heels in, struggling to get away, but he was stronger than her and continued to cut a path through the crowds towards the shadowed stairs in the far corner of the bar.

Without warning, the lights cut off. There were shrieks of terror and confusion as the bar's patrons realized they were blind and began to jostle each other. Sirrush's grip slackened for a moment—just long enough for someone to wrench Amy away from him. She began to scream, but the unseen person only covered her mouth with his hand and made a mad dash through the maze of people with her locked in his arms.

Once in the alleyway, which had no better lighting than the bar, Amy panicked and bit her captor's hand. He yelped and released her, but she'd only gotten a few yards before he tackled her again, pinning her to the cobblestone path.

"Honestly, Pond, _must _you have such sharp teeth?"

Amy stopped fighting like a threatened jungle cat, having recognized both the voice and the comforting scent.

"Doctor!"

"Who else?" The Doctor kissed her tenderly.

"Why'd you have to drag me off like you were kidnapping me or somethin'? I thought I was about to get far worse than alone time with Sirrush."

"Well maybe if you hadn't been throwing yourself at him the whole visit, we could have avoided this problem from the beginning."

Amy glared at him despite the fact his features were barely visible in the dim light of a streetlamp a good distance away. "You know it was the only way he was going to open up. He didn't take much of a shine to you, in case you didn't notice."

"It was too risky, Amelia. To think he almost…I'll never let that happen to you. Never."

Although he was trying his best to mask his worry, Amy could hear it even more plainly in the dark. She reached up where she knew his bowtie would inevitably be and tugged him down towards her, pressing her soft lips against his. "Thanks for watchin' out for me," she told him sincerely.

"It's a full-time job," the Doctor joked. He helped her to her feet and slid an arm around her waist, holding her close as they walked as if he feared Sirrush would come chasing after them any second.


	16. To Arms

**Alright guys, this one's super long, so you BETTER not complain when's there a bit of a gap in between this one and the next one. ;)**

**Reviews please!**

* * *

"Ah, Doctor. Good to see you've returned safely," Clarion acknowledged when the Doctor and Amy reentered the Underground. Both he and River had been waiting anxiously at the entrance—this one more of a doorway than a downward-sloping tunnel—for their return. "How did it go?"

"Excellent, of course. When I talk, people generally listen," the Doctor replied proudly.

"Oi!" Amy protested, punching him in the side.

"Okay, alright, Amy did help out a little."

Amy punched him again.

"Ouch! Fine, Amy helped out a lot. Apparently I'm not the only one who has a thing for gingers."

"Sirrush actually went so far to throw the Doctor out of the bar. But he listened to me," Amy gloated.

"Well of course he's going to listen to someone who's all legs and batting her blasted eyelashes at him as if she's got a nervous twitch." The Doctor huffed, rather put off. "And don't forget you could have wound up in his bed if I didn't rescue you."

"I'm sure I would have found a way out eventually," Amy said dismissively.

"Really? Well I suppose I won't bother next time, then."

"Oh shut up." Amy grabbed him by the braces and pulled him against her, planting a long kiss on his lips.

River rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. "Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you two are joined at the mouth," she remarked, reminding the couple they weren't alone.

"What? Oh! Yes, it seems quite likely that Sirrush is contemplating staging a coup," the Doctor spoke up, not having heard River's comment. He fell in step with Clarion and was soon engaged in a conversation about military strategies with him.

"Amy, what's this?" River asked as they walked behind the two men, snatching Amy's wrist and holding it up for inspection.

"Nothin', nothin' at all. Sirrush just has a very tight grip," Amy replied, twisting out of River's grasp and hiding the purpling bruises in her skirt. She preferred it if the Doctor didn't know about the marks the pirate had left on her, at least not yet. It would only cause him to worry about her more.

"You should get some rest, Amy. You've had quite the night already," River suggested, her eyes full of concern.

"But I'm not tired," Amy responded. Her body seemed determined to prove her wrong, however, for not even two seconds later she yawned.

"Come on," River said, not taking no for an answer. She linked her arm through Amy's and steered her towards hers and the Doctor's apartment.

They were met at the door by a squalling Jenna and a very agitated nanny.

"She just woke up about half an hour ago, and she hasn't stopped crying since. Wouldn't even take her bottle," the plump woman explained, trying to keep the baby from kicking and pummeling her way out of her arms.

"Thanks for watching her. I'll take it from here," River told her before Amy could even speak. The nanny gratefully transferred Jenna to her and hurried off down the hall, ready for some peace and quiet.

For a moment it seemed the child was content with the curly-haired woman—until she caught sight of her mother. Screaming again, she reached her miniscule fingers towards Amy, tears streaming down her plump red cheeks. Instinctively Amy held out her hands to take her, but River would have none of it.

"Get in bed first," she ordered, somehow keeping a hold on Jenna while leading Amy to the master bedroom.

It was with a sigh of relief that Amy slid under the covers, the pillows feeling like the softest of clouds beneath her head. At last River tucked Jenna into her arms, and, as if by magic, the infant's cries ceased.

"Keep out of trouble, now," River said with a smile as she ruffled Jenna's head and took her leave, not specifying who she was talking to.

Despite the waves of exhaustion that were sweeping over Amy, she forced herself to keep her eyes open for a few more minutes so she could gaze at her daughter. As if she sensed she was being watched, the child craned her neck up so she could return the gaze, her two-toned eyes puffy from all the tears they had shed.

"There now; Mummy's got you," Amy cooed, wiping her flushed cheeks dry. She kissed the top of her head and tucked it under her chin. "Go to sleep now, dear one."

* * *

Later when the Doctor retired to the apartment, it was to find Ian sleeping like a rock in his cradle but Jenna mysteriously missing from hers. His search for her began and ended in his and Amy's bedroom, where he stopped at the foot of the bed and spent a moment admiring the sight before him.

Both his wife and his daughter were fast asleep, their arms fastened securely around each other, their hair blending together in a tangle of ginger. Trying his best not to disturb them, he removed his shoes, jacket, braces and bowtie and then got into bed next to them. He draped his arm around Amy's middle and lightly kissed her cheek, wondering once again what he'd done in his unusually long life to deserve this as he slowly drifted off.

* * *

The following morning began quite rudely, with someone hammering on the apartment door. Amy jolted awake, grabbing the Doctor's shirtsleeve instinctively.

"It's alright, Pond. Just someone at the door," the Doctor murmured into her ear, brushing the messy red strands of hair out of her face. She relaxed her sharp-nailed hold, and he started to get out of bed to see who was calling so early. Before his feet could even hit the ground, however, River barged in.

"River! That door was locked!" The Doctor protested.

"Yes it was. And then I unlocked it. Quite simple really."

"But you don't have a key."

"Who needs a key? And besides, I did knock. It's not my fault if you couldn't get off your lazy Time Lord backside fast enough to answer it."

"We could have been undressed for all you knew."

"Oh like I haven't accidentally walked in on that before."

The Doctor sighed. "Is there any _particular_ reason you felt it necessary to barge in, Doctor Song?"

"No, it had just been so long since I'd seen you last I couldn't wait any longer," River said sarcastically. "Of course there's a reason."

"Which would be?"

"We've just received word that Sirrush is gathering all who are loyal to him. There's talk of war between him and Marduk," River announced triumphantly.

The Doctor looked at Amy in slight shock. "Blimey, I guess he did listen to you after all."

"That's because when I talk, people generally listen," Amy said mockingly, a grin on her face.

"Oi, enough of that."

"You said it first."

"What is this, Pick On the Doctor Day?"

"Course not, sweetie. That's every day," River replied airily.

Amy snickered.

The Doctor held his hands up. "Fine, I surrender," he said, grinning wryly. He got out of bed and began putting on the portion of clothing he'd set aside the night before.

"Clarion's troops are mobilizing to intervene when the time is right. In the meantime, breakfast is waiting."

"I always love a planet that respects mealtimes even in the middle of a war. Very smashing of them," the Doctor remarked, taking Jenna from Amy so she could attend to her own needs.

An hour later the three of them were in the great hall, trying to navigate through the soldiers assembled there to get to the food. The warriors were a motley bunch; they ranged from very old to very young and wore armor that had seen far too many years of wear, but despite this they were in high spirits, anticipating the coming battle that was the key to either their freedom or their final defeat. It was a sobering sight.

"Look at them. Half of 'em are no more than boys," Amy remarked, sitting down at one of the round tables. She glanced down at Ian, who was burying his face in her shirt in an effort to get away from the cacophonous noise of the hall that the vaulted ceilings enhanced. She couldn't imagine sending him into battle at any age, knowing she'd die before she'd allow such a thing. Then again, how many of these courageous youths were motherless, or even fatherless? How many of them had nothing left to lose?

"And half of them will be dead before this bloody war is through," the Doctor stated somberly. His eyes slid to Amy's face, and he realized from her frozen expression that he'd said the wrong thing. "Then again, maybe not quite that many. If all goes well, the battle should be in their favor."

"How many people have you seen die, Doctor?" Amy asked softly, clutching Ian to her for comfort.

"Too many to count," the Doctor told her with total honesty. His thoughts reverted to the horrors of the Time War for a moment before he forced himself back to the present. Smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring way, he kissed the top of her head and massaged the back of her neck until her muscles lost their tension. "Let's not dwell on things we don't have the power to change, eh? Here, have a cuppa."

Amy took the cracked ceramic mug from her husband and sipped at it, but the herbal tea within did little to calm her. The soldiers standing nearby were too much of a reminder.

Just then, Clarion appeared at their table, sliding in next to River. Although he shared the same anticipative excitement as his men, it seemed as if he had suddenly aged ten years. Leadership had taken its toll on him, although not entirely in a negative way. There was wisdom in his gaze, the kind quickly acquired in times of trouble.

"They're all so sure we're going to win, just because I'm leading them. I haven't had the heart to tell them otherwise," Clarion admitted, looking at his men.

"Sometimes it's best not to. They thrive on morale," River reminded him, twining her fingers with his on the tabletop. It was surprising how close they'd grown over such a short period of time, as if they'd been destined for each other all along. They complemented each other well; something Amy in particular was glad to see.

All of a sudden, a messenger approached Clarion and muttered something in his ear. Resolve flashed across the prince's face, and he nodded. "It seems Marduk didn't take kindly to Sirrush's usurpation. The battle's already begun," he told the others, rising quickly from the table.

"Good luck to you, old chap," the Doctor said, shaking Clarion's hand encouragingly.

"Thank you, Doctor. For everything." The prince turned to Amy. "And to you as well, Amy Pond. You've been a good deal of help."

Amy waved him off. "It was nothin'."

Clarion smiled in reply. Then he held out his hand to River, and together they disappeared into the crowd.

"Hang on; where's River going?" Amy asked, confused.

"It's Anavrinian tradition for the queen to go into battle with her king, if she so wishes. One of the many examples of their equality," the Doctor explained.

Amy's eyes widened. "But she can't! She could get herself killed!"

"It was her choice."

"But—but she's not even the bloody queen yet!"

"Amelia." The Doctor reached out to keep her from chasing their friend down and refusing to let her join Clarion in the fight. Considering he was still holding Jenna, this was quite a feat. "It's already been decided. And you know how hard it is to change River's mind."

Amy squinted at him accusingly. "You knew. You knew she was going to do this. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm an idiot and figured I might as well save getting chewed out for later. Bit of a procrastinator, me. It's a problem."

"Well you're right about being an idiot."

The Doctor grinned sheepishly. "Any chance you might forgive me within the next hundred years?"

"Nope."

He leaned in and kissed her gently behind the ear. "How about now?"

Amy shook her head, trying not to look like she'd enjoyed it.

This time the Doctor captured her lips, ignoring the fact that there was a hall-full of people around them. "Now?"

Amy thought about it, the addicting taste of the Doctor still lingering on her mouth. "Maybe. As long as River makes it back all in one piece."

"I think the pirates have more to worry about than you do. They're going to wish they didn't get up this morning once she's through with them."

"Ain't that the truth."


	17. Ginger Renegade

Amy examined the otherworldly crossbow with a mix of nervousness and fascination. Unlike its Earthly cousin, it was designed to shoot several arrows in rapid succession and therefore was just as deadly as a firearm. She'd found it in the Underground's extensive armory, along with chainmail that was light as a feather to wear and a breastplate and helmet.

"You sure you want to be doing this, miss?" This nanny was quite a bit younger than the last one; a bare wisp of a woman. But the children preferred her, and that was what Amy needed.

"Positive." Amy kissed her daughter, who was currently being lulled to sleep in the nanny's thin arms. She'd already made her decision. If River was going to be stupid and march out into battle, then she was going to be there with her.

It had been a chore fooling the Doctor. She'd made up a tale about needing a nap, knowing well enough the Doctor had gotten his full four hours of sleep the night before and wouldn't wish to join her. Besides, he'd never been one to stay in one spot when a battle was raging overhead. Amy couldn't blame him; she was just like him in that respect.

"But you haven't had any formal battle training. And you haven't seen the full extent of how merciless these pirates can be. They'll slit your throat in an instant, whether you have a family or not," the young woman told her.

"Yeah? I've faced worse," Amy said with a shrug, strapping on the quiver full of steel arrows. She smiled, resting her hand on Ian's head. "Take care of my babies, Esther."

Esther nodded, although she still didn't look too thrilled with Amy's decision.

"And absolutely no telling my husband."

A slower nod.

"Right then. Back in a wink."

With that, Amy headed out the door, not daring to look back in case she lost her resolve. Leaving the Doctor's side had been difficult enough.

Getting out of the Underground was less so. There was a group of soldiers, men and women both, marching down the hall past the apartments, and she simply tucked her flaming hair into her helmet and blended in with them.

_No turning back now,_ she thought to herself, taking a deep breath and stepping out into the open air.

* * *

The Doctor was studying Clarion's maps of Arbora when a he suddenly felt a twist in his gut, like something was terribly wrong. It was as if a small part of the universe had fallen out of sync with the rest of it. As usual, his first thought was for Amy. It was rare that the instinct proved to be false.

Abandoning the maps altogether, the Time Lord raced through the empty halls of the Underground, only one thing on his mind. His footsteps resounded against the stone floor and echoed off the curving walls, magnified to ten times their original audibility in his head, each step taunting him. At last he reached the apartment door, using his sonic to open it instead of knocking.

"Sir! You're back so soon?" Esther looked disconcerted by the Doctor's abrupt appearance, which was an instant tip-off that something was up.

The Doctor didn't bother to answer her. He pushed past the woman, checking every room and calling out Amy's name.

"You! Miss…what's your name again?"

"Esther."

"Right. Esther. Where's my wife?" The Doctor demanded, out of breath. He pushed back his fringe, which had flopped into his face during his frenzied search of the living quarters.

Esther's glassy mauve eyes were enormous. It almost seemed possible they could fall out of her head. "I—I—"

"Stop stalling, Esther. Tell me where she is."

The nursemaid gulped. "I tried to keep her from going, sir, honestly I did. But she was so terribly determined."

"Where did she go?"

"Marched out with the rest of 'em, sir. She feared for the Queen Candidate's life, and so she went to join her."

The Doctor's blood ran cold as ice. "No. No no no no!" He shouted, turning on his heel and sprinting out of the apartment. As he ran for the nearest passage to aboveground, he cursed himself for having believed her yarn about needing a nap and prayed fervently that she'd still be alive when he got to her.

* * *

If there was one thing certain about pirates, it was that to say they fought dirty was a gross understatement. The opposing forces had converged on the grounds outside the gates of the Parliament building, some of them mounted upon stolen warhorses and some on foot, all armed with every kind of sword, crossbow, gun, battle-axe, and/or mace imaginable. They attacked each other with such ferocity, one would never guess they'd once been united as an undefeatable powerhouse with the ability to take over an entire planet in a fairly short period of time.

The Anavrinian army watched apprehensively from atop a hill, concealed from sight by the outcropping above them. The whole of their future depended on this battle, this single pivotal moment in their history. Failure was not an option.

Clarion inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and shutting out all noise for a second in order to prepare himself. Then he turned to the woman beside him, who stood coolly, her head raised high. A semi-automatic rifle lay comfortably in hands that were accustomed to a blaster, an index finger with a perfectly-manicured nail resting on the trigger. She returned his gaze, and the fire in her strong blue eyes lent him courage.

"Ready?" He asked her.

"On your command, love," River replied, raising the barrel of her weapon.

Clarion smiled. Then he slid the Sword of Emet from its sheath and pointed it towards the fray below. "FORWARD!"

* * *

As the army converged on the battle below, Amy could feel her heart beating in her ears as adrenaline flowed through her veins. For a moment she forgot about the dangers she was about to collide headfirst with, forgot her own fragile humanity. There was nothing but the thunder of thousands of booted feet against sod, the smell of oiled leather and smoke, the wind slipping around them as they ran.

The moment ended rather quickly as the squeal of metal crashing into metal rent the air. Harsh realization of what she had gotten herself into finally came tumbling down on Amy as she ducked and rolled to avoid assaults on all sides. This wasn't some game, or even the typical danger she generally got involved in with the Doctor. This was, no matter how you sliced it, war.

Whatever Amy was, however, coward she was not. Resisting the urge to fall back, she focused on the nearest pirate, who was bearing down on her with an axe raised high. Quickly she notched the crossbow and took aim. The arrow caught him square in the chest, bringing his rampage to an immediate halt. His demise instilled a sense of courage in Amy, and she advanced forward, most of the arrows flying from her bow succeeding in bring their targets down.

Without warning, a blade flashed out of nowhere, slicing through her sleeve and leaving a gash in her unprotected forearm. She cried out as she felt blood running down her arm, biting back the pain. The man responsible loomed over her, leering at her with mossy stumps of teeth. He was just bringing down the sword to deal a blow that would finish her off when a bullet struck him. The sword fell harmlessly from his limp hand.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed? Ignore it and get up!"

The person responsible for removing the threat to Amy's life grabbed her roughly under her arm and pulled her to her feet, and she found herself staring at River. She nodded mutely in response, thankful that her armor obscured anything that would give her away. Unaware of who she was speaking to and far too distracted to even care about figuring it out, River continued on into the melee.

Spurred on by her friend's instructions, Amy grew more efficient with the crossbow, felling as many pirates as she could with each round. Her arms ached, her muscles screaming for her to stop, but she forced herself to disregard it. Listening to her body could very easily result in an end for it.

Suddenly, a braid laced through with silver hairs caught Amy's eye. Sirrush, helmetless like his compatriots, was creeping up behind River only a few yards away, two sharp swords glinting in his hands. Without thinking, Amy swung her crossbow towards him and released an arrow.

The point flew true, burrowing into the Secretary of War's shoulder and forcing him to lose his grip on his weapons. Enraged, he spun to discover the perpetrator, his eyes locking on Amy. They narrowed, and he sprang towards her with unprecedented speed.

Together they toppled to the ground. During the scuffle, the crossbow was knocked away, and Amy's helmet came off, rolling out of reach as her hair spilled out over her shoulders. Sirrush froze, his eyes wide in shock.

"It's you. The woman from the bar." Sirrush's hands suddenly closed like iron around her throat. "There's nowhere to run this time, gorgeous."

Amy's scream somehow reached River's ears, despite the clanging of metal and ricocheting of bullets all around. Turning, her eyes alighted on the familiar red hair that was fanned out like a banner over the muddy earth.

"NO!"

Three gunshots rang out in succession from the semi-automatic rifle. Sirrush was dead before he even hit the ground, his weight on top of Amy almost too much for her to bear. Thankfully River shoved him off of her no more than a second later.

"WHAT THE DEVIL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING HERE!" The woman shouted angrily as Amy gulped for air.

She cringed. "I was worried about you."

"Worried about me? Hold on." River fired a round at the group of pirates attempting to take advantage of the moment. Once they were eliminated, she turned her attention back to Amy. "Does the Doctor know?"

Amy did her best not to meet her gaze directly. "Not exactly."

River sighed in exasperation. "You can't go fighting other people's battles, Amy. I can handle myself."

"Just so ya know, that bloke nearly killed you from behind. Sorry for saving your life."

"I appreciate it, but—" River paused a moment to hurl one of Sirrush's discarded swords at an attacker—"you almost lost yours in the process. And frankly yours is more important than mine."

"Don't say that."

"It's true. The Doctor needs you; without you there wouldn't be a him, which would be very bad news for the universe. And what about your children?"

Amy didn't respond, perfectly aware that her face was burning with shame. She didn't have time to dwell on it, however, for just then the enemy pressed in from every direction.

"Here. It's better for short range," River said, whipping her compact blaster from her belt and handing it to Amy. They stood with their backs to each other and took turns gunning down one other's assailants. This turned out to be quite advantageous, and they employed it as they began moving towards Clarion, who had considerably more protection around him. His flashing sword, still bright despite the blood staining its blade, shone like a home beacon for them.

The pair was halfway there when a dagger came zooming towards them, its target having been easier to mark due to the ginger hair that stood out like a flame in the grime of battle. River saw it and attempted to intervene, but she was too late.

* * *

**You guys know I love these cliffhangers lol. Don't kill me, and please review :)**


	18. Love on the Battlefield

**Okay, so I'm not evil enough of a person to keep you guys hanging from that cliff for very long. Too bad. Lol**

**Thanks for reading, please review :)**

* * *

At the crest of the hill, the Doctor stood with his hands knotted in his hair, horrified by the scene below him. There was no way he'd be able to find Amy in the skirmish and spirit her away to safety—assuming she was still alive. He refused to let his brain linger on that possibility, significant though it was. He'd get to her even if it killed him.

Just then, the Doctor remembered the vortex manipulator Clarion often wore. It would be foolish to bring such a valuable, irreplaceable possession into the heat of battle, where one misdirected blow could destroy it. It wasn't the TARDIS, but it would have to do.

With a new spring in his step, the Doctor backtracked, torpedoing through the caves of the Underground until he reached Clarion's quarters. Sure enough, the device was in the prince's cabinet, an old padlock on the door discouraging anyone wishing to steal it. One click from the sonic screwdriver did the trick.

"Pond, you are going to be in so much trouble once I get this sorted," the Doctor muttered as he fastened the vortex manipulator around his forearm. He had to be precise—one millimeter off and he could end up in the path of a bullet meant for someone else. Using one of the maps he'd been studying earlier, he typed in the coordinates and then closed his eyes, willing for a safe materialization.

* * *

If this had been a normal battle, the blade of the dagger would have buried itself in Amy's heart, killing her in an instant. But fate had not figured in vortex manipulators, or, most importantly, the Doctor and his rigid determination to save the person most important to him. Miraculously, his coordinates landed him directly on top of Amy, knocking her to the ground. The dagger flew over their heads, finding purchase in the back of a pirate instead.

"Doctor!" Amy exclaimed once she'd regained the breath that he'd knocked out of her. "I'm getting' a little tired of random men landing on me, just so ya know. You fellas weigh too much for your own good."

"AMELIA. JESSICA. POND." The Doctor fully intended to unleash a furious tirade on her—he'd had one prepared in his head specifically for that purpose—but for some strange reason he found himself kissing her instead, as desperately as if she'd been dead for the time they'd been apart and just now come back to life. It didn't matter that they were lying in the mud of a battlefield, with people fighting and dying all around them, or that his sonic in his pocket was cutting uncomfortably into her hipbone. All that mattered was that, for the moment, they were both alive, which they seemed intent on proving to each other as the kiss lengthened.

"Oh for goodness sake, Doctor! There'll be time enough for that nonsense later!" River shouted, the only one in her right mind.

"Right, sorry, forgot!" The Doctor replied, both his senses and the gravity of the situation returning to him. Wrapping an arm tightly around his wife, he pressed a button on the vortex manipulator, dematerializing just as a spear burrowed into the exact spot where they'd been lying.

Rematerializing on the hill was not, by any account, a graceful affair. They landed in the same position they'd just been in, meaning that the Doctor was once again sprawled on top of Amy, restricting her breathing.

"Alright, three times is enough. Off you go, alien boy," Amy said hoarsely, elbowing him off of her diaphragm.

"Amelia! What in the _universe_ possessed you to pull a stunt like that?" The Doctor asked crossly, recalling the diatribe he'd had planned.

"So it's perfectly peachy with you if River ends up dead?" Amy shot back.

"We've already been over this. River can take care of herself," the Doctor said. He cast a glance over the field below. "Besides, looks like the battle's in the Anavrinians' favor."

"Sirrush tried to kill her from behind. She wouldn't have seen him until it was too late. I stopped him."

The Doctor sighed. "Look, I'm glad you saved her life, but I'm not happy it nearly cost you your own." For the first time he noticed the gash across her cheek, the blood dripping down her fingers from a cut in her forearm. "Oh Amy…"

"It's really nothing serious," Amy said in the calmest voice she could muster. Truth was, now that the adrenaline was gone, she felt the full force of the pain. And not just from the cut on her arm; there were a number of injuries that she couldn't remember receiving.

Ignoring her, the Doctor rolled up her sleeve, groaning when he saw how deep the laceration was. His nimble fingers removed the breastplate and probed her body for more wounds, finding one from another blade running vertically down her thigh. She inhaled sharply when he rotated her ankle while searching for broken bones or torn muscles, but the fact that she didn't scream indicated it was probably no worse than a sprain.

"We need to get you to the infirmary—assuming this place has one. You're losing blood too quickly," the Doctor said, worry in his eyes.

"No. Not yet, please. I need to see how the battle turns out," Amy replied obstinately.

"That wasn't an option, Pond." The Doctor hefted her off the ground and, despite her continual insistence that she was fine, carried her into the passageway that led to the Underground.

It was a minute or two before they ran across anyone, Amy's blood steadily staining the Doctor's clothes. In an attempt to keep her awake, he joked about how she was ruining his favorite shirt, and she countered that it just meant he'd finally have to change it. Her words were coming slower, however, and though the Doctor dared not reveal his mounting anxiety, his smile grew taut and his pace doubled.

Unable to concentrate, Amy's mind wandered. The tweed of the Doctor's jacket was blurring in and out of focus, and she plucked at it with her good hand, spellbound by the pattern one second and frustrated with it the next.

"Amelia, I need you to stay with me," the Doctor said, shaking her gently.

"Mmm…" Amy's eyelids were sagging. She wanted to sleep so badly, it seemed cruel that the Doctor was keeping her from it.

"Oi, you there!" The Doctor called to a boy who had been too young to join the soldiers. "Is there an infirmary here in the Underground? A hospital? Something?"

"Sure. Follow me," the boy said, glad to be of help to a fallen soldier. The first thing he'd noticed was Amy's chainmail, which the Doctor hadn't had time to take off of her.

They were running now, the Doctor's long strides barely keeping up with the boy's shorter ones due to the weight in his arms. "Hold on, Amy. Just a little longer," he muttered in her ear.

* * *

The Pirate Era was over; even Marduk knew it. The scales had already tipped to the Anavrinians, who had grown in number as those who had stayed in Arbora and the surrounding land rose to join their Underground countrymen. The rumor that their legendary prince was leading them had spread far and wide and drew them like moths to a flame, fanning their patriotism. Some of the ones who came were simple farmers, their weapons ancient sickles and scythes taken from their fields, or hunting muskets hidden away in their cabinets for years. Regardless, a warrior was a warrior.

At long last, Marduk did what any self-respecting pirate would do: he high-tailed it out of there. He and the remainder of his men—only a hundred after the Anavrinians were through them—took to the skies in their armored zeppelins. Clarion and River watched them go, not bothering to stop them. If they were thick enough to return, Anavrin would be ready for them with a proper militia.

The soldiers cheered as the last zeppelin disappeared into the atmosphere, chants of 'long live the king!' filling the air. Clarion smiled at their praise but did nothing to encourage it, aware of how many of his own men were either dead or mortally wounded. Celebrating could wait until they were all tended to.

"We need to get back to the Underground. That's where the Doctor took Amy, I'm sure. She was with us when we marched into battle," River told him.

"What?" Clarion's shock was evident.

"I know. She was just trying to help, but she looked pretty beat up before they flashed out," River said as they immediately began cutting a path through the cheering soldiers. Out of respect, the men and woman bowed and stepped out of their way. "The Doctor had to borrow your vortex manipulator, by the way. Hope you don't mind."

"Of course not. It was meant to be used, and it does respond better in the hands of a Time Lord. The legend goes that it can tap into their thoughts for more exact coordinates."

"That explains the accuracy of the landing. First time in the Doctor's life he's ended up exactly where he wanted to go, I reckon."

"I'm surprised she survived at all."

"She does have a habit of cheating death. Too stubborn, that one."

"One can't cheat death forever, though."

"Like I haven't tried to tell her that a million times. She's as hardheaded as the Doctor is."

"Perhaps that's why they make such a good pair."

"Yes, but it's a real headache for the rest of us."

Clarion chuckled and pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head. River instantly forgot her irritation.


	19. Idiosyncrasies and Requests

**Well kids, I shall be journeying to the lovely state of West Virginia at 4 am tomorrow for my big sis's wedding, so I shall not be updating for the next couple of days. Thought I'd give this to you before I left :)**

**Is it lame that I've done three pen sketches depicting the Doctor and Amy and their kids? Nah, can't be. Just makes me even more of a nerd. Lol.**

**Enjoy, and please review!**

* * *

The surgeon had requested—to put it nicely—that the Doctor wait out in the hall while Amy's wounds were stitched up, seeing as his incapacity to leave her side resulted in him continually getting underfoot. Unable to stay still, the Doctor paced the small corridor outside the infirmary, alternating between tugging at his hair and wringing his hands. When he tried to sit down on the bench that had been cut into the wall, his legs wouldn't stop jiggling up and down, and his fingers took to twisting one of his shirttails. It didn't even register that his clothes were stiff with his wife's blood, which had dried to rust-brown.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor looked up to find both Clarion and River staring at him with concern.

"Doctor, you're covered in blood," River said, stating the most disconcerting thing first.

"Ah, yes," the Doctor said distractedly, looking down at his stained attire. "Not mine though, no; Amy's."

This was not any more of a consolation to the Anavrinian prince and his soon-to-be queen.

"How bad is she?" River asked.

"Well it's really not as terrible as it looks; you humans bleed as if you think you don't need the stuff. But she still lost quite a bit."

"So what exactly are you doing out here instead of in there?" River inquired curiously.

The Doctor colored. "I, erm, thought I'd give the surgeon more space in which to perform his job."

"In other words, you got kicked out."

"Basically."

"No surprise there."

Just then, the surgeon exited the room. The Doctor jumped to his feet.

"Is she okay?" The Doctor asked insistently before the man even had a chance to open his mouth.

The surgeon chuckled. "She'll mend. If you'd brought her to me any later, the odds wouldn't have been so favorable," he informed. "She's unconscious right now, but—"

"Thanks, doc," the Doctor interrupted, unable to wait any longer. He pushed past him into the room.

At first glance, it seemed as if Amy was merely sleeping, peacefulness reflected in her features. But the tubes and wires she was connected to told a different story. Nearing, the Doctor saw that her wounds had been dressed, and most of the blood surrounding them cleaned off, so that she looked not quite as close to death as she had an hour before.

The Doctor sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his, the slight warmth that came from her pale skin comforting him. He brought it up to his lips and kissed it, his lips lingering on the slender fingers.

Amy's eyes fluttered. She turned her head towards the Doctor and smiled weakly.

"This is becoming routine, isn't it? The hospital thing." Amy's voice was cracking, but with each word it strengthened.

"Only because you're too stubborn to do as you're told and stay put," the Doctor scolded, although without true malice.

"I learned from the best," Amy responded lightly, lacing her fingers through his. "And besides, I seem to recall quite a few instances like this being the result of you getting me pregnant."

"Yes, well, guess I'm just a horrid influence on you all around."

"Completely horrid."

The Doctor chuckled and leaned down and covered her lips with his, sliding his hand behind her neck to support her head. She responded readily.

"I don't think suffocating her is really going to help matters, Doctor," River said from the doorway, crossing her arms and leaning against the frame. She'd already given them what she thought was more than enough time alone, having been too anxious to see how Amy was doing with her own eyes.

"River, is it your life's goal to interrupt us every time we're alone?" The Doctor questioned, mildly annoyed.

"Well if it is, apparently I'm not doing a very good job of it. Judging from the existence of Ian and Jenna, at least."

Amy giggled.

"Don't encourage her, Amy."

At that moment, the surgeon reentered the room. "Sorry to interrupt—"

"Join the club," the Doctor muttered under his breath.

"—but I've just received word the wounded are being brought in from the battlefield. We'll need every available space. Would you mind if your wife was moved to your living quarters? Her system's already stabilized," the surgeon continued.

"Not at all," the Doctor replied, uncomfortable with the infirmary setting anyway. His past involvements with such institutions had been none to pleasant. And then there was the fact that the hospital bed was only big enough for one, and he fully intended to spend the next hour or so lying alongside her, holding her against his chest and nibbling on her hair when she wasn't paying attention. It was an idiosyncrasy—one of a vast multitude—that Amy would never quite understand, and even though she scolded him for it, he knew she really didn't mind all that much. Especially considering his lips generally wandered to her neck shortly after.

As the Doctor carried Amy down the corridor to the apartment—She'd adamantly refused the complicated-looking wheelchair the surgeon had offered her and seemed determined to walk despite her sprained ankle, but of course the Doctor rejected this plan—the first wave of the injured came in, heading for the infirmary. Their wounds varied from slight to just about on the brink of death, and the Doctor hurried past them, not wanting Amy to see the worst of it. She saw regardless, and the scene served as a strong reminder to her of what could have been, and of what she could have sacrificed. It was easy to forget that the well-being of three other people depended on her; she'd spent too large a portion of her life being reckless without having to worry about consequences.

The apartment was dark and quiet when they entered it. The lack of noise immediately put Amy ill at ease. "Where are Ian and Jenna?" She asked, sensing right away that they weren't nearby.

"Not to worry. I employed Esther in watching Ian and Jenna so you could get some rest," the Doctor told her as he started a bath for her. The tub was marble and looked more like an underground spring with copper spigots. Amy leaned against the side of it with her knees tucked up under her chin, watching him as he filled it with steaming hot water and soap that smelled like lavender and chamomile.

"I want to see them."

"You can see them in the morning. Right now you need to wash up and then go to sleep."

"But—"

"Amelia. They'll be here in the morning."

Amy didn't argue with him. For once she just didn't have it in her. She let him peel off her blood-caked clothes, wincing as the soiled bandages were removed as well, and pull her into the tub with him. She even fell asleep once, while he was working the knots out of her hair, the sensation of his fingers massaging her scalp and the therapeutic warmth of the soapy water lulling her into a stupor.

Later, however, when the Doctor lay next to her in their bed and pulled the covers over them, she found strength to say one more thing. "You're not gonna eat my hair again, are ya?"

There was a stunned pause, in which the gears in the Doctor's head began turning a mile a minute in order to form a defense. "What a silly thing to say, Amy. I haven't the foggiest idea what you mean."

"Oh don't play that. I heard your lips smacking a second ago."

"They were not smacking!"

"You know it's very bad manners to eat a person's hair, right?"

"I was not eating it! I was merely…sampling it."

"Ladies and gentlemen we have a confession!"

"Oi!"

"Well it can't possibly taste good. It's hair, after all."

"It's more like the smell, really." The Doctor's breath tickled Amy's ear as he inhaled. "I can't get enough of it."

"Note to self: do not switch to mango-scented shampoo. Your husband may try to snack on you."

"It's not that, exactly. It's you. It smells like you."

Amy didn't have a comeback for this. Instead, she craned her neck so that she could reward him with a kiss. "Alright. I suppose you're forgiven."

The Doctor smiled against her lips, and for a moment there was silence. It was never longer than a moment with them, however.

"Doctor, could you…could you teach me your language?"

The Doctor started a little. "You mean Gallifreyan?"  
"What else?"

"Amy, that is an impossibly tediously difficult language to learn, especially later in life. It would take ages just to explain the basic conjugations."

"Well we have ages, don't we?" Amy didn't consider it a very unfeasible request. After all, it hadn't been that long since he'd confided in her his true name—which, admittedly, had been so complicated to pronounce she'd given up trying.

"You'd never be fluent in it. There's a lot that not even Time Lords knew; Old High Gallifreyan, for instance, was learned by only a handful, mostly scholars who wished to study the ancient tomes that were written in it."

"I don't care. I just want to share it with you, even if it's only a bit of it." Amy fiddled with the collar of the cotton shirt he was wearing, which had been lent to him by an Anavrinian freedom fighter. She liked how open it was, allowing her access to the warm skin of his chest and the steady beat of his twin hearts. "You can't tell me you don't miss hearing it."

The Doctor didn't respond at first, knowing full and well how right she was. His language was one of the things he missed most about his home. "Fine, I'll teach you. But keep in mind that I did warn you beforehand."

"Thank you." Amy smiled sleepily, her eyelids sliding shut of their own accord. "Hey, maybe we can even teach some of it to River."

"Don't even joke."


	20. The Price of a Crown

**I have returned! Yes, the wedding was lovely, and also stressful, and I was sick the whole time and now absolutely hate four inch wedges. On the plus side, I looked rather snazzy in my coral bridesmaid dress, the rest of the time when people weren't freaking out was fun, I now have a brother for the first time in my life, and I finally got rid of my older sister. Lol jk...maybe ;)**

**Anyway, I made this chapter uber long to make up for how long I've been gone. Enjoy, and review if you want to make me happy. Or else. :D**

* * *

"See; Ian's picking up on your bad habits already," Amy said, extracting a piece of her hair from her son's curious mouth. The morning had come at last, and she'd gotten her children back only five minutes previous. Jenna was still asleep, the Doctor cradling her in his arms as he sat on the edge of the bed, but Ian had nestled up to his mother's chest the moment he'd fought his way from Esther's hold. She'd laughed and pulled herself into a sitting position, stroking his small head and planting a million kisses on the top of it.

"Pish posh. That's just part of his learning process," the Doctor retorted.

"Exactly. He's learnin' how to be just as weird as you are."

"Oi! I believe the word you are looking for is 'cool'."

"Nope, I really don't think so."

The Doctor shook his head. He leaned in and tucked her curtain of ginger behind her ear. "Whatever shall I do with you, Pond?" He asked.

"Anything you like," Amy murmured back, pressing her lips against his.

"Don't tempt me," the Doctor said between kisses, resisting the urge the touch of her lips produced by reminding himself of the two pairs of innocent eyes in the room. It was still a little while before he broke away—about the time when Ian reached up and attempted to pull off his nose.

"Taking after my bad habits, eh? I'm starting to think he's more like you than me," the Doctor remarked, rubbing his slightly-red nose. Ian had a rather strong grip for his age.

"Since when do I pull noses? Bite them, maybe, but that's all."

"Well that's loads better."

"Glad you finally realized it." Amy smiled, her eyes sparkling like the morning sun on a dewdrop, and the Doctor found himself longing to kiss her once more. "So; what's on the schedule for today?"

"Clarion's coronation is taking place this afternoon. They want to secure him within the reinstated government as soon as possible."

"They plannin' on doing that here in the Underground? Cause I'm getting plenty tired of being—ya know—underground."

"I was told it's taking place in the old palace. Place is a right mess, but it's tradition to crown a new king in the throne room."

"Sounds good to me."

"Apparently these coronation things are a big deal. Sunday best and all that." The Doctor laid their still-slumbering daughter in a bassinet near the foot of the bed. Then he retrieved an open, brown-paper parcel from the dresser. "River had these sent over for you."

Amy handed Ian to him and took the parcel. She reached in and pulled out something similar to a Victorian-era ball gown, with puffed, off-the-shoulder sleeves and a sash where the narrow waist met the ample skirt. The fabric was robin's egg blue organdy and embroidered with silver thread. Another shake of the parcel revealed matching slippers. Amy looked up at the Doctor with a raised eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Oh come on, Amy. You wore that tartan number when we visited Scotland back in the day." The Doctor had been expecting this reaction.

"Yes, but this has quite a bit more…poof," Amy said, plucking at the pleats near the waist.

"How about I make you a deal? If you wear the dress, I'll wear whatever they come up with for me."

This surprised Amy. The Doctor inflexibly refused to wear anything other than his standard tweed jacket and bowtie on just about every occasion, and now that the pirate threat had been removed, he once again had access to his closet within the TARDIS. "Promise?" She said.

"Promise." The Doctor held out his hand.

Amy grinned and shook it. "Deal."

* * *

"I look like an ostrich."

"An ostrich is a feathered oviparous animal that runs at maximum speeds of approximately ninety seven point five kilometres per hour, Amelia. I hardly see the resemblance."

"Oh yeah?" Amy turned to inspect the small bustle on the back of the dress in the mirror. "Look at my bum. It's huge!"

"It's just material. Not that I would mind the size if it wasn't, though." The Doctor patted it fondly. "Besides; you look worlds better than I do."

Amy turned and gave the Doctor a once-over. He was dressed in black trousers and a loose white silk shirt, a gray, pinstriped vest buttoned over it and a black bowtie around the high collar. A silver pocket watch was suspended from the pocket of the vest. He'd combed his hair, his bangs curling attractively around his forehead. "Come off it," she told him, encircling her arms around his waist. "You look…distinguished."

"I'll take that as a compliment." The Doctor bent down and kissed her. "Now turn around so I can fix your hair."

Amy snickered. "How do _you_ know how to do hair?" She questioned, although she did as he requested.

"Paris. It's a long story. The girl who told me about the class had a funny lisp. I thought we were going to be learning how to cook a hare, as in a rabbit," the Doctor replied as his deft fingers coiffed her mane into an elaborate bun and then fastened an artificial flower that had been crafted out of gold and silver petals in it.

"And when you figured out it was a hairdressing class you stayed anyway?"

"Thought it might prove useful at some point in my life. And, as you can see, I was right."

"For once."

"Oi. None of that." The Doctor grasped her shoulders and angled her so she was directly in front of the mirror. "Voila! What do you think?"

Frankly, Amy was impressed. Her auburn hair twisted away from her face becomingly, the delicate wisps that had escaped from it brushing against her fair skin and bringing out the crimson in her soft lips. Before she could stop him, the Doctor stuck chandelier teardrop pearls in her earlobes and clasped a matching necklace around her neck.

"I like it, but it doesn't entirely distract from the fact that the dress still makes me look like an ostrich," Amy said offhandedly.

"Shut up. You're stunning." He nuzzled her neck, raising goosebumps. She closed her eyes and allowed him to explore her neck as his hands threaded around her slim waist, his fingers twiddling with the fabric as if he wished he could remove it.

"We should probably get going. Knowing River, she'll come stampeding in any minute now," Amy said grudgingly, wishing the same thing.

"Good point. We can leave right after I change your bandages."

Amy groaned.

"And here I was thinking you were a big girl now," the Doctor chided, setting to work on the gauze bandage around her forearm.

"But it hurts," Amy complained, gritting her teeth as he rubbed antiseptic into her wound and rinsed it. A second later he was wrapping it with new cloth.

"Well then you shouldn't have gone into battle." The Doctor sat her down and unwound the bandage around her thigh, having a bit of trouble getting to it due to the volume of the dress.

"I know, I know," Amy said with an irritated sigh. She whimpered this time; the gash on her leg was a little more serious than the one on her arm and took longer to clean.

"There. That wasn't too bad." He pulled her skirts back down and helped her up, kissing her forehead as if that would make it all better. Surprisingly, it did.

"Thank you, Doctor. For taking care of me," she told him softly. "I really am sorry about what happened."

"Amelia." The Doctor placed a thumb under her chin and lifted it so she was looking him straight in the eye. "You know I'll take care of you, no matter what incredibly stupid idea you decide to act on. I love you too much."

"Love you more." Amy smiled. She planted one last kiss on his lips before going to retrieve Jenna, who was now awake and fussing for her, from the bassinet. The Doctor lifted Ian away from the blanket he was stuffing in his mouth, and together they left the apartment.

It came as no surprise when they met River halfway down the hall.

"Amy! You look lovely," she said, admiring the dress she'd sent.

"What, no 'Doctor, you look dashing' or something to that effect?"

River chuckled. "Fine. You look...presentable, for a change."

"That's the best I'm getting, isn't it?"

"You're a smart one, aren't you?"

"Well you're looking quite nice yourself, River," Amy cut in before the Doctor could retort. Of all the time they'd spent together, she'd rarely seen the woman in anything other than pants. Today, however, she was dressed much like Amy, except her gown was lilac in color: a sign of Anavrin royalty.

"Yes, well, people around these parts are very dedicated when it comes to special occasions. This kind of thing is expected," River said, plucking at the wide skirt with a face that indicated she shared Amy's opinion on the excess material that had been used. She flipped open her pocket watch, which was similar to the Doctor's albeit gold and was unreadable to Amy, who was accustomed to Earth's way of telling time. "Speaking of which, the coronation is set to begin in less than an hour. We might as well head up there."

"Right. Let me fetch Esther," the Doctor said, heading off to find the nanny. Amy may have looked very much improved and healthy at the present moment, but he doubted she would be like that later in the day. It was best if Esther was available to watch their children whenever that happened.

Once everyone was ready, a motorcar that was all chrome and shiny black paint met them at the Underground's main entrance. The car's extensive back seating was open to the air and put Amy in mind of a limousine-style Model T as she climbed into it, sliding across the plush red velvet-cushioned seat so the Doctor could settle in next to her. Ian wriggled out of his father's grasp and crawled across Amy's lap so he could look over the side of the car, his plump hands resting on the top of the door. The Doctor kept a wary eye on him, resolving to pull him back as soon as the vehicle was in motion.

"It's good to see you alive and well, Amy. I nearly believed River was joking when she first told me that you had snuck your way into battle," Clarion said. He was sitting on the seat across from the couple, dressed in the silver-detailed lilac general's uniform that was customarily worn in Anavrinian coronation ceremonies. Despite the fact that one arm was in a sling, he looked anything but sickly, and his eyes shone with anticipation.

"Sorry I gave everyone such a scare. I wasn't exactly thinking clearly," Amy responded, stroking the soft skin of her youngest child's arm. She tried not to think that the previous day could have been the last time she ever saw the tiny, ginger-headed wonder, but it kept coming back to haunt her. "What about you? Are you alright?" She asked in return, her gaze returning to the sling.

"I'm fine; it's just a small fracture. The surgeon said it will heal quickly."

"That's good news," the Doctor remarked.

"I was glad to hear it," River said, snaking her arm through her fiancé's good one. They exchanged a look that communicated their relief that neither had lost their life the day before.

With a slight lurch, the motorcar sprung forward, and the Doctor immediately reached for Ian and secured him on his lap. The young boy looked up at Amy and scrunched up his face, working up a good cry to let them know how displeased he was with the intervention.

"Don't even think that's gonna work on me, wee one," his mother said, tapping his nose knowingly before returning to her task of rocking Jenna back to sleep.

Once Ian realized his plan had failed, he started to quiet down, but a permanent pout was etched into his face. At least until they reached the heart of Arbora, and the towering buildings and smokestacks captured his undivided attention.

The palace still looked as sad and abandoned as it had the first time they'd laid eyes on it, but today it had an air of hope around it, an expectation of a brighter future, as if it knew what was to come now that the pirates were gone. Reconstruction had already begun on it; workmen had started tearing the boards off the windows and setting up scaffolding around the walls that had caved in, preparing to restore it to its original architectural beauty. The people of Anavrin crowded the expansive front lawn, lining the road that the motorcar was taking. They cheered when it rolled into view, more shouts of 'long live the king!' and other blessings rising above them as if spoken by one voice.

Although Clarion seemed pleased to see his people liberated, his smile at their praise was awkward, as if he wasn't entirely comfortable with it yet. Without River by his side, he doubted he would have been able to continue to the throne room at all.

"Don't worry. They love you," River told him, sensing his unease. She traced soothing patterns into the palm of his hand.

"They expect someone great, someone with near godlike capabilities. I'm not so sure that I measure up to the person they think I am," Clarion confided in a low tone.

"You successfully defeated the pirates where others have failed. I'm pretty positive you more than fit the bill," River told him.

"Still not convinced. Although when you're with me...anything seems possible."

A troop of soldiers met Clarion and his entourage as soon as they stepped out of the car, keeping the crowd back and discouraging possible assassination attempts. Clarion went first, climbing the wide, copper-plated steps leading to the palace's generously-sized entrance with River on his arm, the Doctor and Amy behind them. Esther trailed on their heels, carrying Ian so the Doctor could respond quicker if Amy suddenly took a turn for the worse.

Amy had thought the exterior of the palace extravagant, but it paled in comparison to its interior. Both the great hall and the throne room looked as if they had been built for giants. Much of the furniture had been removed when the pirates had looted, but there were fixtures that were fastened too securely and had remained through it all: colossal fireplaces, scrolled columns, chequered marble floors, endless staircases with banisters of intricately-carved wood. Gold and silver were prominent in the décor, filigreeing just about every carved surface. Although many of the panes were missing, most of the ceilings were constructed of domed glass that allowed the sun to flood the palace with light, mixing with the multicolored beams that shone through what was left of the stained glass windows. It was enough to take anyone's breath away.

At some point during the trek to the throne room, Ian began fussing so much that the Doctor was forced to take him from Esther. As they continued on, no one noticed the nursemaid freeze as she spotted something in a doorway leading off the corridor, like a deer caught in headlights. She hung back from the group as they went on, her disappearance unrecognized due to her station and the Doctor's focus on calming his son. When the doors snapped shut behind them, she remained on the other side.

Once inside the throne room, the Doctor and Amy broke off from Clarion and River to stand on the sidelines with those who had been granted access to witness the ceremony. A priest—judging from the unusually-shaped hat atop his head—was waiting for Clarion at the opposite end of the chamber, the solemn page at his side bearing a gold-fringed pillow on which rested the untarnished silver crown of Anavrin's ruler.

Clarion took one look at the crown that had been worn by his father and then glanced at River, taking a deep breath. She nodded, and they proceeded down the threadbare carpet that led to the priest. Halfway there a ray of sun broke through the clouds overhead, and the light set River's hair aglow, like a golden halo that enhanced the regal fashion in which she held her head. Smiles went around like a contagion as those who were present realized that their prince had chosen well.

River stopped a little short of the platform the priest stood on, leaving Clarion to complete the remainder of his journey alone. He kneeled before the priest, who cleared his throat and began the speech given to every heir apparent on the day they claimed their birthright.

"Amy, have you seen Esther as of late, by chance?" The Doctor whispered in his wife's ear while the priest was still rambling on.

Amy glanced around. "Wasn't she with us just a second ago?"

"Up until Ian threw that tantrum, yes. Can't believe I didn't notice until now." The Doctor's eyes turned cold. "Something isn't right, Amy."

Just then, one of the doors at the rear of the chamber creaked open, and the woman in question appeared. It would have come as a relief if, only a second later, she didn't reach into the pocket of her skirt with a shaking hand and pull out a revolver.


	21. Hypnosis and the Man with a Plan

On instinct, Amy moved forward as if planning to intercept Esther, but the Doctor grabbed her arm. She tried to shake him off, but she knew it was pointless. The gun-wielding woman was a good distance away, and Clarion would be dead before she even took three steps.

"Assassin! Assassin!" Amy shouted repeatedly instead, until every head turned towards Esther. A hush fell over the crowd for a moment, and the priest stuttered to a stop. The click of the hammer being drawn back on the revolver sounded like a cannon going off in the stillness.

It was this noise that spurred the people into action. A broad-shouldered man who looked to be a farmer by trade and was closest to Esther lunged at her, bringing her down. Subsequently, the bullet flew wide, missing its mark entirely and embedding into one of the columns supporting the ceiling. Another citizen wrested the revolver from her and removed the remaining bullets.

"Stay here, Amy," the Doctor ordered, handing Ian to her before striding over to the restrained woman. Not surprisingly, Amy ignored him, following him closely despite the weight of a child resting on each hip. Now that the weapon had been decommissioned, she hardly saw how the situation could be dangerous.

At close proximity, Esther didn't quite look herself. Her eyes were even wider than usual and unfocused, and although she wasn't even trying to escape, she was panting as if she'd just run a great distance.

"Esther? Would you like to tell me what just happened?" The Doctor said gently, crouching down in front of her.

There was no response. The nanny didn't even seem to register his presence.

"You can trust me, Esther. I'm the Doctor."

Still no response. He waved a hand in front of her face, but her eyes didn't blink, or look away. It was like her mind was somewhere else.

"Doctor? What's wrong with her?" Amy asked.

"I thought I told you to stay back there, Pond."

"And you actually thought I was going to do it?"

"Not really."

Their exchange was interrupted when Jenna, who felt it was close enough to mealtime, began to wail. It seemed to jolt Esther out of her torpor.

"There there, little one. Don't cry," the nanny consoled, producing a dummy from one of her pockets and sticking it into the baby's mouth before anyone could stop her. The wailing ended immediately.

Amy's instincts were screaming at her to move away, that there was still a possibility that this woman could be a threat to her children, yet she stayed where she was. "Okay, what's going on?"

Esther looked confused. Suddenly she became aware of her surroundings, and of all the people around her staring at her as if she had done something terribly wrong. "How did I get in here?"

"What do you mean?" The Doctor questioned, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Last thing I remember is following you down a hallway." Esther frowned, trying to remember something. "There was…something. In a doorway. A…light…"

Without warning the woman cried out and clutched her head, as if it hurt to recall the memory.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned her, the green light illuminating her frightened purple eyes. "Hypnotized," he deduced from the results.

"So you're saying she didn't intentionally attempt to murder my fiancé?" River inquired skeptically. The near hit hadn't gone over particularly well with her.

Esther blanched. "I didn't. Tell me I didn't do that," she murmured in a small voice.

"Looking on the bright side, you didn't actually hit him," Amy replied.

This didn't seem to improve matters. The nursemaid burst into tears, her thin body shaking.

"Shh, it's alright." Deeming that Esther was not to blame for the incident, Amy placed Ian in her arms in hopes that his sweet baby charm would cheer her. She wasn't disappointed.

"So where did she get the gun?" Clarion inquired, his gaze calculating. He'd already learned that being cautious of everything was the best way to stay alive.

"It's—it's mine. Used to belong to my grandfather. I thought...I thought I should bring it, just in case someone tried to kill His Majesty." Tears were still flowing freely down Esther's cheeks as she rocked back and forth, but at least she was no longer on the verge of hyperventilation. "But it wasn't loaded before. Honestly it wasn't."

"Fine, she didn't do it. Or didn't intend to do it. But if she didn't want to kill Clarion, then who did?" River demanded.

"Esther, do you think you could show us which doorway you saw the light coming from?" The Doctor asked. He was careful to keep his tone temperate, so as not to upset the young woman.

Esther nodded and stood up, Ian still clutched to her chest as a source of comfort. More than one man stepped forward as a result, intending to restrain her.

"Stop it, all of you!" The Doctor chastised. "Whatever crime this girl committed, it was against both her will and her knowledge. Besides, what harm can she cause when she's unarmed?"

Ashamed, the men backed away, and Esther relaxed. She started for the hallway outside the throne room, the Doctor, Amy, River, and Clarion in tow.

"There. That's where it was." Esther's quivering finger was directed at a doorway that led to another corridor. There were no skylights here, and the hall was cast in shadow. Regardless, the Doctor strolled into it, his screwdriver whirring loudly as he scanned his surroundings.

All of a sudden something shot out of the gloom, something orb-shaped and constructed of pieces of metal. There was a lens on it that was glowing an angry red and extending and retracting as if it was focusing.

"Come here you little blighter," the Doctor said as the airborne orb made to zoom away from them. He caught it just as it was picking up speed, and it ended up dragging him from one end of the hallway to the other before he managed to neutralize it with his sonic.

"What in the world is it, Doctor?" Amy asked curiously, watching as he turned the orb over in his hands.

"That is a very good question." Looking like a child who had just discovered a new toy, the Doctor ran the sonic down the rough seam between the metal pieces. A second later it snapped open, revealing advanced mechanisms similar to that of a high-tech clock. "It appears to be some kind of transmitter. Which means there's someone out there controlling it."

"Well that's all fine and dandy, but who is it?"

"Give me a sec." He changed the setting on the screwdriver, and the whirring noise increased. Suddenly it stopped with an audible ping. The Doctor crowed. "Gotcha! It's coming from a ship. Up there, in the stratosphere."

"The pirates?"

"Possibly." The Doctor tucked his sonic into his pocket and took off down the corridor.

"Wait, Doctor! Where are you going?" Amy asked, racing after him as fast as she could without jarring her daughter too much.

"The TARDIS. I think it's time I paid Clarion's would-be assassins a little visit," the Doctor replied, the transmitter tucked under his arm.

"I want to come too."

The Doctor's eyes locked on her, and she knew from what she saw there what the answer would be before he spoke it aloud. "No. No, you'll be safer down here."

"Last time you said that, you left me in the middle of the London Blitz and almost got yourself blown up by a bunch of colorful, self-absorbed Daleks," Amy countered.

"Oh Amy." The Doctor approached her and lifted her chin yet again, but she stubbornly pulled it down, dropping her gaze to hide the water forming in her eyes. He rested his forehead against hers instead, Jenna cushioned comfortably between their bodies. "Don't go fretting over an old man like me, eh? I'll be back before you know it."

"You always say that."

"And I always am."

"Give or take a few hours, occasionally days. What if you don't come back at all one of these times?"

"I'll always come back." The Doctor pressed his lips to hers before pulling away. "River, keep an eye on her," he instructed, receiving a nod in reply. Then he was gone, sprinting down the corridor and out of the palace.

Amy held Jenna out in front of her so that the infant's gaze focused on hers. "Don't you _dare_ turn out like your father," she told her sharply.

Jenna's only response was to grin toothlessly, a laugh bubbling in her throat. Softening, Amy folded her into her chest, the baby's downy hair tickling her chin. It was this combined with the warm double beat of her small hearts that soothed the emptiness the Doctor's departure had left.

"Come along, Amy," River coaxed, wrapping an arm around her friend and steering her further inside. She'd noticed the rosiness fading from the girl's complexion and didn't like it one bit.

"I'm not going to take a lie-down, if that's what you're thinking," Amy said instantly, as if reading her mind. "I'm not tired."

"Fine by me. I just thought you might want to eat something. It's long past lunchtime," River invented on the spot.

Amy looked at her, narrowing her eyes as she tried to decide if this was the truth. Her stomach took the opportunity to rumble, reminding her that she'd missed breakfast. "Alright. Suppose it couldn't hurt," she said at last.

* * *

"Miss me, old girl?"

The Doctor bounded up to his ship and practically hugged it—as much as one can hug a large square box made out of wood. The ship rumbled in greeting, and he smiled. "Yeah, missed you too."

Once inside, the Time Lord set to work. He hooked up an array of wires from the TARDIS's console to the transmitter and then adjusted several dials. There was a dinging noise as the coordinates of the ship the transmitter had come from were located on the small device, and the rotor began its steady rise and fall. The Doctor grabbed the console and hung on, euphoric about being able to fly without the stabilizers once more. It was a substantial part of the fun of travelling, after all.

The next moment the ship ceased its shaking, the brakes whining as it fully materialized. The Doctor was on the move in an instant, throwing open the doors and stepping outside without one thought as to what kind of trouble he might be entering.

Trouble came—for its continual reappearance was something to be expected—in the form of a platoon of pirates, all armed with semi-automatic rifles pointed not even a foot from his nose. There was a man behind them, elevated by a metal platform, whose unappealing looks were in stark contrast to Sirrush's. He was squat and ruddy-faced, a patch covering his right eye, an authentic peg leg sticking out of his trousers, and more hair on his chin than the crown of his head. It wasn't hard to guess who he was.

"Welcome, Doctor. We've been expecting you," Marduk boomed.

"Oh bugger," groaned the Doctor.


	22. Roles Reversed

**See, I didn't make you wait too terribly long. And this one doesn't really have too much of a cliffhanger. :)**

**Thanks for reading, and please review!**

* * *

For a country long suppressed by greedy pirates, Arbora boasted a unusually large bounty of good food, imported from the countryside. The tray that was brought to Amy was piled high with food similar to Earth's; yellow cheeses, fat slices of moist, golden bread and butter, peridot-skinned grapes, sizzling brown sausages. There was even a pot of tea, ruby-red in color and with a soothing aroma. Despite all this, Amy barely touched anything. She hated this; hated being left behind while the Doctor went off and nearly got himself killed. She suspected it had something to do with her love for adventure and feeling like he was having all the fun without her. She wanted to be there with him, facing the cutthroat pirates alongside him. It was where she belonged.

"Are you gonna keep staring at me like I'm about to choke on something and drop dead?" Amy asked River, who was watching her like a hawk. She seemed to be taking the Doctor's instructions a little too seriously.

"Well seeing as how little you're actually putting in your mouth, that seems highly unlikely." River knew well enough what her charge was thinking about. She'd hoped the food would distract her, but so far it hadn't been entirely successful. Not even Ian and Jenna could draw back to the ground the part of her the Doctor had taken with him. And, generally-speaking, they were quite good at sidetracking a person.

Amy ripped off a hunk of bread and stuffed it into her mouth. "Happy?" She said once she'd swallowed it.

"Amy." River sighed. "I'm just trying to look out for you. Thinking about what the Doctor is doing every second he's gone isn't going to help."

"What if they caught him? What if they've thrown him in the brig—or, er, whatever it's called on a pirate blimp thing? What if they've already—" here Amy bit her lip, not wanting to voice the possibility that he was dead. The thought itself was too much to bear.

"He's fine, Amy. The Doctor knows what he's doing," River answered. _I hope,_ she added silently, careful not to say it aloud. They all knew how often he got into scrapes and just barely escaped from them. It didn't seem like his luck could last forever.

Amy leaned back on the battered, velvet chaise lounge, thinking along the same lines. She wondered for a moment why she had chosen such an unpredictable man for her lifelong partner—but only for a moment. A life with someone like Rory would have never taken her to the stars and beyond, to see worlds and races that she once thought could only exist in science fiction novels, do things she never believed possible. To live with the Doctor was to share in his insanity, his wonderful, chaotic, brilliant universe few were granted admittance to. Not even his personality made sense, as far as the standard was concerned, and she loved every bit of it. She loved him, more than she could ever describe. Even when he went chasing after pirates without her.

As the hour ticked away, Amy was starting to worry. Something should have happened by now. The Doctor returning triumphantly, having sent the pirates packing, an explosion in the sky, anything. Personally Amy would prefer the former to the latter. But the fact that nothing was happening at all was making her antsy.

"You know, I think all this food's made me sleepy. I could use a bit of a kip," Amy announced, feigning a yawn.

River looked at her through narrow eyes. Probably had something to do with how little the girl had actually consumed. At last, however, she nodded and picked up both Ian and Jenna, who were arguing nonsensically over what appeared to be a tarnished silver doorknob. "Come on, you little rabble-rousers. Time to let your mum get some rest," River said, keeping her eyes open for another discarded doorknob on her way out in order to dissolve the disagreement.

As soon as the door shut, Amy leapt into action. In her haste to get off the chaise lounge, however, her foot caught in the bottom of her skirt, and she just barely managed to regain her balance without making too much noise.

"Alright. Time for you to go," she decided, grabbing the material that fanned out around her like a tent and ripping it with gusto until it was nearly as short as the dress she'd worn to the Anavrinian bar. To allow more leg movement, she tucked part of the hem into the sash at her waist, enjoying the cool feeling of having her legs exposed to the air once more.

Having solved her encumbrance issue, Amy slipped out of the room via a connecting door opposite the one River had just gone through. She was relieved to find it unguarded, along with the servants' passageways that snaked throughout the rear of the palace. It took her at least ten minutes, but at last she found a door leading up from a cellar to the outside. As she searched for the entrance to the slide-like tunnel that opened out into the Underground, she hoped ardently that Clarion's vortex manipulator was still where the Doctor had left it.

* * *

"You know, if you were more hospitable to your guests and—erm, conquered peoples—I bet you'd get on more invitation lists." Marduk's henchmen had tied the Doctor up and chained him to the metal railing that ran the length of the platform, as if he was on display for all of them to see and ridicule. For the millionth time he cursed himself for falling into their trap, for not realizing they may have been smarter than he assumed. Or at least, that their leader was.

Marduk chuckled at this, although his visible eye—the other was covered by a patch—held no mirth, rather the satisfaction of having won the game. "We have no need for invitations. We go where we please."

"Right, right, forgot you had the whole big bad pirate persona thing going for you there. You lot just swoop down and take whatever you want, whether it encroaches on other folks' rights or claims their lives. Sounds like a lovely occupation."

"It was, until you dropped out of the sky. You ruined everything. Stirred up the commoners, encouraged that brat of a prince to steal my throne—"

"Technically, you stole it from him—"

"I wasn't finished!"

"Touchy, aren't we? Fine, go right ahead."

"As I was saying, you got him to steal my throne, and brought that blasted woman with you who he now plans to marry, turned my Secretary of War against me—"

"Sorry to interrupt again, Your…Piratey-ness, but that was actually my wife who turned Sirrush against you. No offense but I don't believe he was all that bright."

"Silence!" Marduk roared.

"Blimey, didn't your mum ever teach you manners?" The Doctors tsked disapprovingly. "Now, there are some things I want to know and, quite frankly, I am not a very patient man. Suppose that means my manners are rubbish too, but whatever. So, first off, how do you know who I am?"

Marduk didn't answer at first; in fact, he looked ready to draw a rifle on him and end the whole business right then and there. Instead, he pulled something out of his pocket and flung it at the Doctor's feet. It was a birthday card, the front depicting a fuchsia-furred llama wearing a lime-green party hat and balloons in the background. The card fell open, allowing the Doctor to read the scrawl within. There was even a photograph, which depicted a Doctor from an earlier time yet an older regeneration, his arm thrown over the shoulders of a grinning man whose ears were proportionally too large for his head. Just behind them was the TARDIS, looking the same as it always did.

"Well would you look at that! This must have been good ole Cousin Egbert's last birthday card for me before he died. Poor chap never got a chance to send it," the Doctor exclaimed, recognizing the scrawl.

"I found this while going through Arbora's Royal Archives. The box in the picture fit the description my men reported to me of a ship that was seen falling from the sky several days ago. It didn't take long to figure out who the pilot was, and that he was assisting with the Rebellion."

"I really hate to say this to someone who had me tied me to a railing, but I have to admit that was bloody brilliant."

Marduk nodded curtly as if this was common knowledge.

"My other question, just one more, is this. Why did you send the transmitter down to hypnotize some innocent soul into assassinating Clarion? It seems to me that a man with such a brilliant mind would have devised a plan for something far better than elementary revenge."

The pirate king's lip curled. "Indeed. The assassination scare was only a diversion. I had no intention of murdering the brat prince, although it would have been a plus. No, what I really wanted was you."

"I'm flattered, mate, but like I said I'm already married."

"Not like that, idiot. You're nothing more than one man—or Time Lord, rather—yet you somehow managed to overturn a sect of one of the most feared Pirate Confederations in the galaxies in less than a week. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist going after someone who tried to kill the prince." There was a glint of greed in his eyes. "Imagine what I could do with ours brains combined. No civilization or armada would be able to stand in my way."

"Right, okay, once again, a real cracker of an idea, but there's one little snag. I'm not going to help you."

"Oh, I think you will." Marduk snapped his fingers, and a pirate came forward with something that looked like a fancy fireplace poker, except that electricity was crackling from the point. The Doctor was instantly put in mind of the electric eels Leonard Saxon had used to confine him. It was not a pleasant memory. "As you may have heard, we pirates have spent quite a bit of time perfecting our torture methods. I daresay you'll find it a rather shocking experience."

"You villains are a little obsessed with analogies, aren't you?"

"Keep laughing, Doctor. It won't be for much longer."

And with that, the man with the electric poker lunged forward.

* * *

Amy stared at the vortex manipulator in her hands, the triumphant feeling of finding it in the first place she looked having long since faded. She'd forgotten for a moment that any coordinates of the airship's location were on the transmitter and therefore unattainable. Her plan was already crumbling down around her and she hadn't even gotten any further than the escape part yet.

Sighing, Amy fell back into the armchair behind her, feeling utterly helpless. She fiddled with the key on the long, thin chain around her neck—the TARDIS key—pulling it out from her bodice and rubbing her thumb over it absentmindedly. The Doctor had duplicated the original for her earlier on in their lives together, after the time he'd accidentally locked her out and, two long hours later, she was seething so angrily he was dead sure smoke was going to come out of her nostrils any second. It was not a mistake he'd planned to make again.

It took a little while for Amy to realize the key seemed to be straining against her hand. She looked down to find that, not only was it pulling in the direction of the vortex manipulator as if to a magnet, but that it was glowing, the silver having turned a bright gold. Leaning closer on a whim, Amy watched as the key somehow inserted itself into a lock-shaped notch she hadn't noticed previously. The clicking of the number wheels turning to a set of coordinates on their own accord filled the air.

Amy smiled. "Gotcha, Doctor."


	23. Always Magnificent

**You guys better love me for this chapter, because not only is it long, but it is also fluffy, and lacking in cliffhangers. Begin love now.**

**P.S. Love is best communicated in the form of reviews.**

**:D  
**

* * *

"Give in yet, Doctor?"

The Doctor's vision was blurring in and out of focus as he looked up at Marduk, but he clenched his jaw, daring not give him the satisfaction of a beg for mercy.

"Never," he managed to choke out, wincing at the pain even speaking produced. At some point during the ordeal he'd been kicked in several places, the worst having been dealt to the side of his face. There was still blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

Marduk shrugged. "Suit yourself." He motioned for the electric poker to be brought forward again.

"Drop it, buster!"

Both the Doctor and Marduk, along with the rest of the pirates, turned to find a new arrival stepping out of the TARDIS. Amy's hair had fallen out of the Paris-inspired up-do, framing her face in wild curls, and with her modified dress, it was clear she wasn't some girl to be taken lightly. Or perhaps it was the blaster—larger than an assault rifle and one of River's most prized possessions—that she had pointed at the torturer.

The Doctor groaned once more at the sight of her. "Must I handcuff you to River to make you stay put, Pond?" He asked, his hearts sinking. Although he couldn't help being a little proud of her for having figured out how to operate the vortex manipulator that was strapped to her arm.

"Who in the gods' name are you?" Marduk demanded.

"Not that it's any of your business, but Amy Pond. That's my husband you've got tied up there," Amy spat. "And don't think there won't be hell to pay for it."

"Lovely woman, isn't she?" The Doctor said with an appreciative grin.

"So this is the one who deceived Sirrush, is it?" Marduk gave her an appraising look. "I can see why she was successful."

"Eyes off the legs, fella," the Doctor said darkly.

"Yeah, what he said," Amy voiced, swinging the blaster threateningly as the members of the crew tried to advance on her.

Marduk stepped off the platform, and for the first time she noticed his peg leg, which thumped ominously against the steel floor. As he approached her, she raised the blaster at him pointedly.

"I wouldn't come any closer if I were you," she told him in warning.

"Come now, my pretty. You don't seem the type who would kill an old man so heartlessly," Marduk wheedled, his palms outturned towards her, an expression on his face she didn't like.

Amy snorted and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you pirates are all the same: schmoozers. Clearly you don't know me at all." Out of the corner of her eye she could see the pirate king's henchmen moving ever so slowly and was aware she only had a minute or so more to stall him before they overpowered her.

It was then that Amy struck on an idea. "This is a zeppelin, yeah? Which means it has to have some sort of gas bag system to keep it afloat, especially since we're not quite outside Anavrin's atmosphere, are we? So it would be a shame if I did this, wouldn't it?" Not wasting another second, the ginger pointed River's blaster at the ceiling and fired recurrently. The pulses tore right through it and into the belly of the balloon keeping them aloft. There was a loud hiss as the gas escaped, and the zeppelin tipped so violently that most of the pirates went flying to the other end of the gondola. Amy's back collided with the TARDIS, which remained in place despite the angle of the floor.

"You fool!" Marduk screamed as he crawled his way to the controls in attempt to save his ship. "You impudent, treacherous female!"

"That's my wife for you," the Doctor croaked fondly.

Using the iron railing, Amy pulled herself up the platform to where the Time Lord was chained. It was slow progress, considering the entire ship was shaking like mad as it plummeted towards Anavrin's surface, but at last she reached him.

"Oh Doctor, what have those idiots done to you?" She asked, tenderly running her hand along the side of his bruised face. She kissed him, and her lips warmed him down to his bones, freeing them from their agony.

"It doesn't matter now. We need to get out of here," the Doctor reminded her as the gondola tipped in a different direction, and she had to hold on to him to keep herself from getting thrown towards the wall.

"Workin' on it." Amy tugged at the chain that imprisoned him, but there was a lock on it that refused to give.

"Use my screwdriver. Left trouser pocket," the Doctor instructed.

Retrieving the device, Amy directed it at the lock. It popped open immediately, releasing its prisoner. She tried to pry off the ropes as well, but the Doctor pulled away. "We don't have time for that," he said, trying to stand. The ropes bound his arms behind him, but his legs had been left alone, and quite fortunately indeed.

Amy helped him up and started dragging him in the direction of the TARDIS, but without warning a hand closed around her ankle and brought her down. She screamed when she saw that it was Marduk, murder burning in his eye.

"You're not getting away that easy, my pretty," the pirate said, bracing himself as the blimp roiled. He began towing her towards him. The Doctor shouted at him angrily to let go of her, but there was little he could do with his arms tied up and the floor dipping unsteadily beneath him.

Something slammed into Amy's arm, and she looked to find that it was the electrified poker that one of the pirates had been torturing the Doctor with. She snatched it up and jammed it into Marduk's shoulder. The man screeched as electric shock after electric shock coursed through his body, and he released her. Relieved, she got up and ran best she could for the TARDIS, tugging the Doctor by his ropes.

Together they fell into the time machine, the doors slamming behind them. Amy ran to the kitchen to fetch a serated knife, then set to work sawing through the Doctor's bonds. Once he was free, he raced to the console and punched in coordinates for Anavrin before throwing the lever. The TARDIS dematerialized just as the airship lost the remainder of its gas and began a swifter, spiraling descent.

"Amelia Pond, you are completely—you are absolutely—you are entirely—"

Amy didn't let him finish. Before he could get another adverb out, or even the actual adjective, she was crushing her lips into his, her fingers tangling in his air. Unable to support her weight, he fell back into the console with her in his arms, whimpering involuntarily into her mouth from the pain.

"Doctor?" Amy pulled back and really looked at him. Now that she wasn't preoccupied with getting away from murderous pirates, she saw just how beat up he was. "Are you okay?"

"I will be. Don't worry about it," the Doctor said, forcing a smile.

"I will if I want to. Hardly seems fair when you spend most of the time worrying about me." Amy grabbed his hand. "Come on. We need to get someone to check you out."

"Really, Amy, I'm in mint health. There's no need to consult a physician," the Doctor said, trying not to grimace.

"That wasn't an option, mister," Amy told him impishly.

"No fair. You're not allowed to turn my phrases against me."

"Where does it say that?"

"In the giant rulebook called 'How to Travel With the Doctor Without Getting Kicked Out Through The Doors While Flying Over Earth."

"Never heard of it."

"That's because I haven't finished writing it yet."

"Mhmm. Stop stalling," Amy ordered, pulling him outside with her.

* * *

River was furious. She'd come back to the room to find it devoid of her red-haired charge and the back door open. It wasn't that hard to figure out what had happened.

"River? What's wrong?" Clarion asked when his fiancée came storming out. He and Esther were currently entertaining Ian and Jenna, who were happy now that they had matching doorknobs.

"She ran off," River said, irritated. "Can't leave that girl even for a second."

Clarion looked at her, wide-eyed. "Oh no."

"Oh no what?"

"I left my vortex manipulator in my Underground quarters."

"You don't think…"

Clarion didn't respond. Leaving Esther with both of the children, he and River raced out of the palace the back way, taking the tunnel to the Underground. Reaching Clarion's living chamber, they found the cabinet that usually held his vortex manipulator empty.

"So she went after the Doctor." River shook her head. "Do you have another vortex manipulator hidden somewhere, by chance?"

"That was my only one. I'm afraid all we can do is wait for them to come back," Clarion answered.

"If they come back."

River didn't want to consider this, even though she knew it was more than likely. The walk back to the palace was a difficult one, the feeling of foreboding they shared mounting with every step.

"I believe they'll come back. They don't seem like they're all that easy to kill," Clarion said, noticing how concerned River was.

"And if they don't? What will happen to Ian and Jenna?"

"We can always…adopt them."

River looked at him, a little surprised. "You'd really want that?"

"Of course I do." Clarion smiled. "I rather like the idea of us raising children together."

River returned the smile, feeling a flush creeping up over her cheeks. This was a little more of a shock than Clarion's statement. Since when did she _blush_?

The palace guards, newly appointed, bowed to the pair as they reentered the palace. Clarion nodded in response, too preoccupied with other things to think it strange like he usually did.

"Did you find her?" Esther asked when they reached the parlor, her eyes shining with hope. Jenna was now in her lap, slurping enthusiastically on a bottle Amy had thought to leave behind.

River shook her head, not meeting her eyes. She didn't want to see the hope fade from them. "She's gone. She's either on the pirate zeppelin with the Doctor or…lost entirely." Unaware of the key feature on the manipulator, River couldn't see how she could have gotten the proper coordinates. For all she knew, the ginger could have ended up on another planet entirely, or something worse.

"Oh" was all the nursemaid said. She hugged Jenna closer, rocking back and forth more out of nervousness than to keep the child content.

Suddenly, a whirring noise cut through the silence, getting louder. Clarion and River glanced at each other, then burst out laughing out of sheer relief.

"Thank goodness," River breathed.

The blue police box was more than a welcome sight. The doors flew open and Amy stumbled out, burdened by the weight of the Doctor, who had his arm over her shoulder. It was clear she wasn't near strong enough to support him, but she refused to let go. Clarion dashed forward just as her knees buckled, catching the Doctor and laying him down on the parlor's only couch.

"Amy! You really have some nerve," River scolded, taking the girl by the arm and settling her in a straight-backed chair with one wooden arm missing. The bandage around her forearm had come loose, and the wound underneath had begun to bleed again.

"But I saved the Doctor, didn't I?" Amy's face was white as a sheet, but there was nothing that could douse the look of triumph in her eyes.

"Yes, but you also almost got yourself killed. Again, mind you." River called a guard in and instructed for him to find a physician. The man bowed and quickly left to fulfill his orders.

"They were torturin' him, River. Just look at him."

River did. She saw his bruised face, the awkward position his arm was in, the way he clenched his teeth when Clarion prodded him for injuries. She'd never seen the Doctor this bad off.

"I still think it was an unwise choice," the woman stated reprovingly, although secretly she was glad Amy had succeeded.

"What happened to the pirates?" Clarion asked curiously.

"Crashed. Amy here shot up the gas bags keeping it airborne," the Doctor said before Clarion's examination of his ribs made him cry out. Despite this, his face was still glowing with pride.

"Oh, yeah. Speaking of which, River, I kinda left one of your blasters aboard the pirates' blimp," Amy said slowly.

River froze. "Which one?"

"Erm, I think it was silvery. Blue on the handle, though, and the barrel."

River's jaw dropped. "You lost Old Bessie?" She exclaimed before taking a deep breath and making herself calm down. "Never mind, never mind. What's more important is that you two survived." The expression on her face, however, wasn't entirely swayed.

Just then the physician arrived. He took one look at the Doctor and said, "He needs to be moved. Is there a bed still somewhere in this palace?"

Clarion nodded. "The looters didn't have much interest in those," he told him before lifting the Doctor up and half-carrying him to the nearest room. Amy stood immediately and followed, not wanting to be separated from the Doctor ever again.

The physician had his aide bring in the tools he would need, including a heart monitor. Once he had hooked it up and gotten his readings, his eyes widened. "Not from Anavrin, are you, sir?" The older man remarked.

"Time Lord. Two hearts," the Doctor explained.

"Truly? Fascinating." The physician continued his work as if it was an honor to heal such a specimen. Odds were that it was for him.

Not wanting to get in the way, Clarion and River left the room, closing the door behind them. Amy found a chair and pulled it over to the bed, sitting in it and letting the Doctor squeeze her hand as the physician—who introduced himself as Dr. Jacoby—removed his vest and shirt and began binding what he deduced were two broken ribs.

"Ya know, I'm pretty sure the doc has some kind of sedative you could take for the pain," Amy remarked as her fingers grew numb.

"Pain? What pain?" The Doctor said stoically, only to yell a moment later when Dr. Jacoby pulled a little too tightly on the bandages. "Truth is, it'd take a mighty powerful sedative to relieve it even a little. Time Lords aren't exactly well suited to medicine; we generally heal too quickly to need it."

"Lucky you," Amy said through clenched teeth. She was starting to understand how both he and Jack had felt during the birth of Ian and Jenna, when she'd squeezed the blood out of their hands. Not that she'd been able to help it.

"Besides, I have you with me. I don't need anything else."

Amy smiled and cupped his cheek with her hand, resting her forehead against his. They stayed like that until the next wave of pain hit him.

When at last Dr. Jacoby had finished patching up both of them and left the room, Amy lay down next to the Doctor, careful not to disturb any of the areas that were bandaged.

"Honestly, you scream worse than a woman in labor when you get hurt," Amy said with a soft chuckle, her finger tracing the planes of his bare chest.

"Do not!"

"Do to."

"I resent that."

"Resent it all you like, but it's true. I should know."

"Ah, yes. How could I ever forget." The Doctor grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his lips. "Amelia Pond, you are and always will be magnificent."


	24. Coronations and Dance Competitions

**So I learned my lesson about watching super intense dramatic Doctor Who episodes right before bed. I watched the Almost People online a few nights ago because America decided to be evil and not show it Memorial Day weekend, and I was so not waiting until the next Saturday to see it. Tried to go to sleep afterward, but my brain wouldn't stop going a mile a minute, most likely trying to work out what in the world is going to happen next. It was rather annoying. Sigh. Oh well; it was so worth it, even if I did have work in the morning. :D**

**This one's a bit of a filler chapter, with the usual amount of fluff (which you know never really ends), so no complaints on the shortness lol.**

**Reviews please!**

* * *

"You know, I'm starting to like the short dress look," the Doctor remarked, staring pointedly at his wife's shapely legs. It was the following day, and Clarion's coronation had been rescheduled for later that same morning.

"Oh go on," Amy said, not minding the attention. The Doctor had agreed to wearing clothes they were accustomed to this time, and so she was clad in a straight black cocktail dress that hit around mid-thigh and spiky heels. Her red hair spilled loosely over her shoulders, without even a bobby pin holding it back. The Doctor, who was back in his usual attire, had almost suffered a heart attack upon sighting her for the first time that day. One could never guess she was the mother of two children. "Are you sure you're up to this?" She asked, not easily forgetting what Marduk had done to him.

"Amelia, I've already told you that Time Lords are fast healers. I'm fit as a fiddle," the Doctor informed her as he straightened his bowtie.

"Is that so?" Amy wrapped her arms around his ribs and squeezed ever so gently.

"Okay, how about we don't do that," the Doctor said, biting back the groan that resulted from the pain.

Amy grinned, not moving away. "Thought you said you were fit as a fiddle."

"Well, maybe not a brand-new fiddle, per se."

"Uh huh. It's alright to not be invincible sometimes, ya know."

"No, it's not. At least around you." The Doctor grinned sheepishly, playing with a lock of her hair.

"Bit chauvinistic, are we?"

"Not a chance. I just like being your knight in shining armor."

"And sometimes I like being yours. Damsels in distress are overrated."

The Doctor chuckled, his hand abandoning her hair to slide his fingers through hers. "Maybe, but without them there wouldn't be many knights. Us males tend to have an unhealthy dose of hero complex, after all."

"So I've noticed." Amy smoothed out his collar, taking more time on it than was necessary. "I know it sounds corny, but you've always been my hero and I don't see that changin' anytime soon. Got it?"

The Doctor responded by kissing her.

"Good enough answer," Amy said breathlessly when he'd finished, her lips a much brighter red than they'd been before. "Think we should get going?"

"I'm sure no one would mind if we were just a tad fashionably late," the Doctor said, leaning in again.

Just then, a hasty rap sounded on the other side of the door. "Doctor, sir? Mrs. Doctor? The Queen Candidate told me to tell you to stop…erm…fooling around and get your—ahem—posteriors down to the throne room. Oh, and please."

"A real charmer, that Queen Candidate," the Doctor commented, amused by Esther's replacement words for whatever River had really said. The please had most definitely been an addition.

"We'll be right there, Esther!" Amy called before turning back to the Doctor, laughter sparkling in her lively eyes. "Mrs. Doctor really has quite a nice ring to it, I think."

"Very funny, Pond. Come along."

* * *

This time around, Clarion's coronation went off without a hitch. The priest placed the crown of his fathers on his head, and when he stood to rejoin River after being declared king of all Anavrin, the people cheered until the entire throne room rumbled.

"I hope there's a party after this. I'm rather fond of parties," the Doctor told Amy, having to raise his voice a bit due to the noise.

"You expect a party after everything. Even that funeral we accidentally stumbled in on," Amy said.

"I promise I thought it was a wedding. Those Sastans are a celebratory bunch."

"They weren't celebrating after you did a jig on the coffin."

"I'm pretty sure that's on the list of things we don't talk about, Pond. Ah, here come Clarion and River!"

It was lucky that the couple chose that moment to approach; there were a lot of other things that had happened at that funeral that Amy would have been happy to dredge up again. Not to mention all the other occasions on which he'd unwittingly embarrassed her.

"There's going to be a celebration in the old ballroom, if you two would like to join us," River invited.

"We would love to join you," the Doctor spoke up a little too quickly, holding out his arm for Amy. She rolled her eyes but accepted it anyway.

It was, without a doubt, a party that did not disappoint. The locals had brought all sorts of fare and drink and piled it on rickety wooden tables until the screws holding them together groaned from the weight. Musicians had come prepared with their instruments; things that looked like violins and cellos with too many strings, two-horned trombones, and even something much like an old-fashioned keyboard that was worn around the player's neck. The tune they produced was lively enough, and without hesitation the Doctor pulled Amy out onto the floor with him. Apparently mostly recovered from his injuries—or ignoring them for the time being—he began dancing in a way that put Amy regrettably in mind of a drunk giraffe. Somehow, however, his ridiculousness became contagious, and she found herself mimicking the dance with him, laughing until her stomach muscles hurt. He caught her around the waist and spun her around in dizzying circles, his laughter blending with hers, neither of them caring about the number of people staring at them like they were lunatics.

"Simply mad," Clarion remarked with an amused shake of his head as he watched the pair dominate the dance floor.

"Certifiably. But that's why they work." River smiled. "Now come on. It's about time we put them to shame," she added, grabbing his hand and tangoing with him to the other end of the ballroom.

It was at least an hour before the Doctor realized Amy was a little too flushed and out of breath. Disregarding her complaints—she had been having too much fun competing with Clarion and River—he guided her over to the row of chairs against the wall and, after fetching a glass of water, sat down next to her.

"But Doctor, we were about to beat them!" Amy protested, forgetting how lightheaded she had felt only moments before.

"You wouldn't have if you passed out first. Here, drink this."

Obediently Amy took the glass, meaning to take only a sip and ending up downing the entire contents. The red in her cheeks toned down considerably. "Sorry. Guess I got a little carried away," she apologized.

"Happens to me all the time," the Doctor said with a grin. "Would you like to leave early and get some rest?"

Amy shook her head vigorously. "Not yet. We can't let Clarion and River have all the fun."

"Just let me know if you start to feel ill, alright?"

"Aye aye, captain."

They returned to the dance floor just in time for a slow ballad, which the Doctor was thankful for. He pulled her in close to him, and she settled her head in her favorite spot just under his chin, sighing contentedly.

"You know what this reminds me of?" The Doctor said softly as they swayed together.

"You thinkin' about that time you accidentally married me?"

"Yeah, that." Just like on that night, the dancers around them faded away, the music replaced by the steady pounding of each other's hearts.

"It was the first time I ever danced. Or at least, without trying to look like an idiot on purpose." Amy smiled at the memory.

"It was the first time I started realizing I was in love with you."

"Lucky, I suppose, considering you got stuck with me for the rest of your life afterward."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." The Doctor kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, tightening his grip around her waist.

Without warning the music picked up again, and the Time Lord's eyes snapped open, searching for the culprit.

"River!"

"What? Can't have you two snogging on the dance floor," River responded roguishly. "Besides, Clarion and I weren't quite finished rubbing our superior dancing skills in your faces."

"I believe that was a challenge, Doctor," Amy said cheerfully.

"I believe it was, Mrs. Doctor."

* * *

When at last Amy had spent what was left of her energy reserve, the sun was already setting. The celebration was still in full swing—and probably would be until far into the night—but the Doctor knew well enough when to call it a day. His instincts proved true, for just outside the ballroom Amy's legs gave out. Not faltering for a moment, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to their room, laying her down on the bed right away when he reached it.

"'T was a lovely party," Amy murmured as the Doctor unfastened her shoes, sleep fighting to overtake her.

"The best yet." The Doctor's eyes crinkled, a smile forming on his lips. He found her zipper and undid it, slipping the dress up and over her head. There was a pair of pyjamas folded up and waiting at the foot of the bed, but he bypassed it in favor of one of his shirts he'd brought from the TARDIS, aware of how much more comfortable she would be in it. While buttoning it up, he paused for only a moment to kiss her shoulder before completing his task.

No less than a minute later she was sleeping soundly on his chest, his arms encircling her soft, petite body, and it occurred to him that sometimes it was a good thing to be accident-prone.


	25. A Royal Wedding

**Forgot to mention at the end of the last chapter that the reference to the drunken giraffe dance move was borrowed from Karen Gillan, who described some dancing Matt Smith did in the Big Bang as looking like that. It was in a Doctor Who Confidential. I thought it was quite amusing. :)**

**Just to warn you, it's 2:35 am here and I am reeeeeeally tired after a long day of work and then a Bible study. So if there's something that doesn't make sense, sorry in advance. Thanks for reading anyway, please review!  
**

* * *

"What are you two doing, trading national secrets or something?" The Doctor remarked.

Amy looked up at him as if he didn't know anything, which, in this case at least, was pretty much true. She and River had removed themselves to the other side of the drawing room in order to plan River's upcoming wedding, and had been speaking in low, presumably conspiratorial tones over it until the Doctor's curiosity had gotten the best of him.

"Honestly, Doctor, do you think weddings just happen on their own? These things need to be organized," River told him matter-of-factly.

"Yes, but you've been over here for four hours. I've been counting," the Doctor complained.

"Takes a lot longer than four hours, idiot. The average time is a couple months to a year, so we're going to have do a bit of cramming," said Amy.

"A year! You're joking, right?"

Amy rolled her eyes. "See, River, this is why you're not having a ceremony on Dulkis. You don't want to be eternally bound by the laws of the universe to some impatient madman."

"Duly noted," River said with a twitch of a smile. While the Doctor was countering Amy's quip, she took the opportunity to beckon to Clarion. The Anavrinian king nodded, understanding immediately, and headed over.

"Say, Doctor, would you mind accompanying me to the palace's elevator control room? The mechanics have been working on the old machinery all week, trying to get it up and running again, but they keep encountering the same problems. Do you think you could take a look at it?" Clarion cut in.

The Doctor was torn. Part of him wanted to find out more about this wedding planning phenomenon, but the promise of tinkering with something as complex and interesting as an elevator system was tantalizing. After a few moments, the latter won out. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take just a quick peek at it," he decided.

"Excellent. Right this way."

As Clarion led the Doctor away, rambling on about cogs and gears and who knew what else, he glanced back just once to wink at River. Amy mouthed a hasty 'thank you' before he turned around.

"Frankly I have no idea how you live with than man," River commented when they were out of hearing distance.

"Beats me. Sometimes I wonder it too, whenever he does something utterly bizarre, or leaves the toilet seat up, or eats my hair."

"He eats your—"

"Yeah something about it smellin' like me; don't ask. But anyway, despite all that, there's still a lot of things I love about him; how he takes care of me and Ian and Jenna, the times he brings me the weirdest food combinations for breakfast in bed, how he went all the way back to some tiny planet we visited weeks ago to get me a bouquet just because I mentioned I liked the blue roses that grew there. I even like his stupid dance moves."

"Oh you poor dear. You are in love."

"Unfortunately, yeah."

"Well as long as Clarion doesn't try to eat my hair, I think it'll work out just fine."

"Don't worry. Pretty sure it's just the Doctor who does that. We're working on it."

River smiled and went back to the notebook where she was jotting down whatever idea either she or Amy came up with. "Back when you went off to rescue the Doctor from the pirates and there was a possibility of neither of you coming back, we talked about the option of adopting Ian and Jenna. Seeing as I am their godmother, of course. And he told me…he liked the idea of us raising a family together."

"That's wonderful news, River!"

"I know. The thing is I'm not sure if I'm ready to be a mother anytime soon."

"Well it's not like you have to be one right after you get married. Although even if it did happen earlier than planned, you'll be fine. I mean look at me; at twenty one and a wife for only a few months I wasn't exactly ready. Now here I am with two beautiful babies who I wouldn't exchange for the world."

"You're still twenty one."

"Only technically. And you're missin' the point here."

"Alright, I got it. I shouldn't worry about it, right?"

"Right."

"I'll try not to, then. Now, what do you think of red for the dress? White's a little too cliché in my opinion…"

* * *

The day of the wedding took place a week and a half after Clarion's coronation, as was tradition. Even so no one seemed to feel it was too soon; it was almost like the couple had been together for ages already. River had wanted the ceremony performed Earth-style, which the Doctor claimed was a shame since they would miss out on some kind of ritual involving a ring of fire. Whether he was making it up or not remained under speculation.

The day was a breathtakingly spectacular one, the sky blue as turquoise and the weather pleasant. The palace's cavernous chapel was filled to the brim with guests sitting in pews festooned with red bows, all softly twittering their opinions of the new rulers to their neighbors. Esther sat in the second row, Ian on her lap and Jenna passed out in the baby carrier beside her. The priest who had crowned Clarion would be officiating and was currently standing in front of the altar with Clarion, who was dressed in a white uniform and wearing his crown atop his dark curls. He couldn't seem to keep a smile off his face, his violet eyes glowing bright with anticipation. A massive restored stained-glass window behind the altar cast a wide spectrum of colors over the chapel, dappling its inhabitants in rainbow shades. An organ played a lilting melody off to the side, biding the time until the wedding was set to begin.

At last the doors at the rear of the chapel opened, and the comely matron of honor strode in, her fiery ginger hair swept back into a loose ponytail and her emerald-green, knee-length dress formfitting as usual and the precise shade of her eyes. Her rose-painted fingernails were clasped around a bouquet of blue flowers not the least bit native to Anavrin. The vine pattern on her left ring finger seemed to gleam a pure gold, perhaps because of the light from the stained-glass window.

"Real looker, that one," a young man in one of the back pews said, nudging his friend.

"Don't even bother, Fineas. I hear her husband's a jealous type," the friend warned.

"Husband? She doesn't seem the marrying kind."

"Well apparently she is. Must be something to it considering they have two children."

"Are you putting me on?"

The friend shook his head. "Sorry, mate. Better luck next time, eh?"

"Guess so," answered Fineas, although the lingering glance he cast her suggested he was reluctant to have to give up so easily.

Amy was followed by the bride, who was resplendent in a mermaid-cut, sleeveless crimson gown made of finest satin. Her flyaway ringlets, although refusing to be entirely tamed, had been pinned back, clusters of what looked like holly berries and leaves gracing the hairpieces. All the red offset her porcelain skin perfectly, and Clarion couldn't help but smile wider when he laid eyes on her.

The Doctor, of course, had been unyielding about being the one to give her away. According to him it had always been a dream of his, and since River's father was no longer around it was not a request she could easily refuse. And so here he was, dressed the same except for a sprig of holly fastened to his lapel, beaming as proudly as if River actually was his daughter.

When they reached the altar, the priest cleared his throat and pushed his spectacles to the end of his noise. The words that came next were not typical to an Anavrinian wedding and therefore sounded awkward on his tongue.

"Who gives this woman to be this man's wife?" He asked.

The Doctor was fairly bursting with excitement as he said, "Amelia Pond and I." Then he handed her off to Clarion and went to stand on the other side of the priest, sending a thumbs-up in Amy's direction. She pretended to have missed it.

The priest droned through the vows—there was a lot Clarion and River had put in emphasizing their equality, but somehow he managed to make everything sound boring—and both the Doctor and Amy jumped a little when his voice changed tones.

"Do you, Ravid Hosea Clarion Swift, King of Anavrin, take this woman to be your lawfully-wedded wife and queen?"

"I do," Clarion said, a little too quickly.

"And do you, River Jayne Song, take Ravid Hosea—"

"I do," River said before he could finish. She grabbed Clarion by the red sash he wore across his uniform and kissed him furiously, to which he readily complied. The priest looked appalled.

"I, er, present to you Mr. and Mrs. Clarion Swift, King and Queen of Anavrin," the elderly man managed to get out over their heads.

The Doctor let out a loud whoop, initiating the eruption of applause in the chapel.

* * *

"I must say, receptions are the best of parties," said the Doctor as he tucked in the feast the palace cooks had whipped up after the wedding. All the guests sat around an array tables, some square, some round, and even some rectangular, mismatched due to the fact that they were on loan from families who had wished to contribute in any small way. The tablecloths—not one the same color as the next—improved the overall appearance of the hall, however.

"You're only sayin' that cause you saw there was a dance floor," Amy accused.

"And the food. Can't forget about the food," the Doctor said gleefully, spearing some sort of herb-baked fish on his fork.

Amy scrunched up her nose as she watched him stuff the bite in his mouth. It wasn't that she didn't like fish; it just wasn't particularly appetizing to her when it was a neon-yellow color. Or had green spikes sticking out of the strip of skin that had been left on.

When the meal was finished, the Doctor pulled River out onto the floor for what should have been her father daughter dance, if she'd still had a father to dance with. Amy watched with a grin from across the room as he twirled her, the perfect gentleman...if only for a few minutes. A collection of genuine fathers and daughters soon joined them.

"Hello there."

Amy glanced up at the man who had suddenly appeared beside her chair, her expression reflecting only a very mild curiosity. He was around her age—give or take a year—and had short brown hair and a weak chin that would not be in want of a razor for a while yet. It was clear he had money from the way he dressed; perhaps someone who was used to getting what he wanted, judging from the look in his eyes.

"Hi," she said as briefly as she could, returning her attention to the Doctor and River, who had transitioned from a slower dance to one that closely resembled the jitterbug.

"I'm Fineas Beck."

"Good to know."

There was a long pause.

"And what was your name again?" Fineas tried once more.

"Amy."

"Amy…?"

"Pond."

"Amy Pond. I like that."

To Amy's chagrin, the bold young man pulled out the chair next to her—the Doctor's chair—and sat down.

"It was a nice wedding. A little unorthodox for Anavrin, but still nice."

"Mhmm." Amy shifted her chair over a little, only to find her admirer following suit.

"I've never seen anyone quite like you in a wedding procession before."

"Go figure." Amy scooted her chair over a little more in hopes of catching the Doctor's eye, but he was a little too preoccupied with a dance that made him look like there wasn't a bone in his body. She was just considering using the washroom as an excuse to run away when she felt Fineas's had ghost over her leg under the table. She tensed.

In an instant the Doctor was there, hauling the unfortunate man up by his collar. "Excuse me, but I believe that is my seat. And my wife."

Fineas opened his mouth to protest, but then he saw the storm gathering in the Time Lord's eyes. He knew right from the off what would happen to him if he attempted to argue the matter. "My apologies, sir," the coward said before wriggling out of his grasp and scampering off.

"I can't even leave you for a few minutes without some slip of a bloke trying to steal you away from me," the Doctor said humorously, sitting down and resting his arm on the back of Amy's chair.

"Took you long enough. I was workin' on a plan to hide in the loo until he lost interest."

"Inspired."

"Yeah, I thought so too."

The Doctor laughed and planted an affectionate kiss on the tip of her nose.

* * *

**Figured I might as well give River a middle name. Jayne is my grandma's middle name and I thought River needed something a little normal. But not entirely, of course. :)**


	26. Relocation

**First off I would like to say that I LOVE the internet because without it, since I live in America, I would not have seen A Good Man Goes to War as early as I did. MY. MIND. EXPLODED. True story.**

**Anyway, enjoy, and please review! :)**

* * *

Although neither the Doctor and Amy nor Clarion and River wanted to admit it, the time had finally come for them to say their farewells, at least for the time being. It was the morning after the wedding, and only a few minutes until Clarion and River were to leave on their honeymoon around the universe. The Doctor had offered to take them wherever they wanted to go, but they all knew it would only make saying goodbye later even more difficult.

"I'll miss ya. More than anything," Amy said, somehow managing to hug River with Jenna strapped to her front. The newly-crowned queen was currently holding Ian as tightly as she could, knowing it would be a while before she saw him again.

"Well you all better remember to come back and visit, or so help me Clarion and I will hunt you down," River threatened, only partly joking.

"I don't doubt it." Amy laughed.

"I think I'm starting to feel a little sorry for Clarion," the Doctor muttered to Amy, but loud enough so River could hear.

"Oh shut up." River punched the Doctor's shoulder before hugging him too. "Take care of yourself, Doctor. And Amy and these little rascals," she said warmly, kissing Ian's cheek before handing him off to his father.

The Doctor saluted in response with his free hand. Ian, who apparently found this very entertaining, chortled at him. "Now don't go getting into trouble, because I won't always be there to get you out of it," said the Doctor.

"That's comforting and all, dear, but honestly you tend to bring trouble as much as you solve it."

"Thank you, River, for the vote of confidence."

"You're welcome."

"Make sure you take care of my girl here, Clarion. She may be a real pain—"

"Hey now!"

"—but she's worth it—"

"What are you, my father?"

"—even if she has this terrible habit of interrupting you." The Doctor grinned.

"I will," Clarion promised fervently, trying not to look surprised when the Time Lord gave him a bone-crunching side hug as well.

"Right then! Come along Pond." The Doctor spun on his heel and headed towards the TARDIS, which was waiting for them outside the doors of the palace. Amy waved goodbye one last time before following him.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" Amy asked once they were inside. "I mean, this is all new for River, being married and runnin' a kingdom and all that."

"What, River? She'll be fine as feathers, that woman. She's a real pioneering type," the Doctor answered, attempting to pilot the TARDIS with Ian still in his other arm.

"True. But I will miss having her here with us," Amy said sadly, dropping into the chair near the console and removing Jenna from the carrier. The child had been waiting long enough for her breakfast and had no qualms about letting everyone know it.

"I will too. She was quite good at livening things up." The Doctor smiled. "But at least you've still got me."

"Yeah, you soo make up for it."

"Is that sarcasm I hear?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"You know, I haven't entirely discarded the idea of kicking a companion out while passing over Earth," the Doctor reminded her, sauntering over and squatting so he was eye-level with her.

"As if you would." Amy paused the unbuttoning of her shirt to grab the Doctor by the bowtie and bring him in closer for a kiss. It was only broken moments later because of Jenna noisily expressing her indignation at not getting the milk she'd been promised.

"Impatient as her father, this one," Amy laughed, allowing her daughter access to what she needed.

"And as loud as her mother to boot."

"Who says that's a bad thing?"

"Definitely not me. Not ever."

* * *

"Amy! Amelia! Amy! Amelia!"

Amy groaned and rolled over, none too happy to have been awoken by the repetitive shouting of her name. The fact that the bed was shaking as if there was an earthquake going on didn't improve the situation.

"What, in the name of all things good and rational in this world, is _wrong_ with you?" She demanded unpleasantly.

The Doctor's mood was not to be deterred. A wide grin was still stretched across his face as he bounced, a little more calmly now, on the section of mattress right next to her. "I have the absolute most brilliant surprise for you," he divulged.

"Is the TARDIS on fire?"

"Don't be silly, Pond. The TARDIS has excellent fire prevention systems."

"Then good night."

"Now now, Amy, there's no need to go getting a case of the grumps—ow! What was that for?" The Doctor rubbed the spot on his ribs, which were still slightly bruised, where her fist had made contact. It had been a rather good shot considering she currently had her head stuffed under her pillow.

"The Grump wants to sleep."

"The Grump sleeps too much, in my opinion."

"Glad we're on the same page. Night."

"I suppose I have no choice but to summon the Tickle Monster, then."

"Don't you dare."

"Too late."

Seconds later the couple was on the floor, the Doctor tickling every inch of her he could get to before she swatted his hands away. She, in turn, was screaming her lungs out, trying her best not to laugh yet epically failing. At some point the fight became gentler, with a little less tickling and a lot more snogging.

"Gotcha," the Doctor said triumphantly, his body pinning hers to the floor, both of them out of breath.

"_This_ time." Amy grinned, sleep long forgotten. "Now what was so bloody important that you had to wrestle me out of bed?"

The Doctor stood, helping her up. "I want to show you something."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Amy bombarded him with questions in regards to his cryptic answer while he dug clothes out of the dresser for her and made her put them on, but he remained blissfully silent the entire time. Getting Ian and Jenna up only prolonged the torturous wait, for both of them needed one thing or another, whether it be nappy changing or feeding or burping. Finally, when both of them were strapped into their carriers and ready to go—and after Amy had made the Doctor carry the changing bag out of spite—they left the TARDIS.

"Where are we?" Amy asked, stopping short when she saw they were standing atop a roof. Turning, she saw the London Eye and Big Ben gracing the city skyline. "Is this London?"

"Yes! Well, not quite," the Doctor replied as an air transport with flashing blue and red lights zoomed by overhead. "This is New London, actually. On New Earth. Billions of years into your future, founded after Earth is destroyed."

"Earth gets…destroyed?"

"Erm, yes, sorry…I mean it's not like the human race is gone; just relocated. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to show you."

The Doctor nudged Amy ahead of him, opening the door leading inside the building. Together they descended the staircase down to the second floor from the top and followed the hallway to a white door with the number 611 on it, fitted with a scrolled silver knocker the match the knob. Still smiling in the same frustrating way, the Doctor pulled out a key and opened the door, beckoning Amy within.

The apartment was very open and extensive, with modern décor and state-of-the-art appliances in the well-sized kitchen. The best part, however, was the window that took up two walls and allowed a breathtaking view of New London, which was bustling with life both on the ground and in the air. Amy couldn't help but watch in awe as larger-than-life airships cut through the twilit sky not far from the window.

"Okay, Doctor, tell me. What's this all about?" Amy asked, whirling on him.

"I bought you an apartment."

Amy's jaw dropped. "You mean this is—"

"All yours? Yes." The Doctor was beaming. He lifted Ian out of his carrier and sat him on the floor, letting him explore his new home. Then he took Amy's hands in his. "Remember when you were talking about wanting a flat when you were younger? Well I saw this place up for sale on the intergalactic market and I figured, what the heck."

"But…but I told you I didn't really mind not having my own place. The TARDIS has always been good enough for me."

"I know, but I thought we could try out this domesticated thing for a little while. I've never really done it before; might be fun."

"Fun? You know what domesticated means, right?"

"Oh come on, just give it a go. This is New Earth, after all; there are all sorts of species roaming around out there, and shops and other fun things to do that you can't do on Earth now—or billions of years ago, I suppose. Oh! And I can even get a job."

At this, Amy burst out laughing. "You, get a…job!" She managed to get out, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What? It's not that farfetched of an idea."

"For you it is."

"Please, Amy." The Doctor gave her hands a little squeeze. "Just try it. For me."

Amy looked at the skyline and then back at him, biting her lip as she tried to make up her mind. "Okay, but just for a bit. And then it's back to the TARDIS, right?"

"Of course."

The Doctor watched Amy as she took Jenna to see the rest of the apartment, a troubled look in his eyes he'd kept concealed until now. He had no intention of telling her the true reason for his purchase of the residence: the blinking warning light on the TARDIS console. It meant someone was attempting to track his ship, to lock onto its location, and it was unlikely that they had good intentions. After all, the Family of Blood had successfully managed to track him down during his previous regeneration, and he wasn't about to let something like that happen again, especially not with his new family around. He would protect them at any cost, even if it meant abandoning the glory of time and space travel for a short while.

The plan was to cloak the TARDIS, make her impossible to trace, and lay low for a year or more. New Earth seemed an ideal spot: its geography and people were familiar to Amy, but the presence of aliens and the incredible advancements in technology and society would be enough to hold her interest for a while.

Or at least he hoped.

* * *

**I got the apartment number 611 from Doctor Who currently being in series 6, with the 11th Doctor. Original, I know.  
**


	27. Trouble in Paradise

To Amy's surprise, the Doctor did manage to secure a job; as a grade school science teacher. He insisted on his students calling him Mr. Doctor and was, as the school year progressed, proclaimed the best—if not most eccentric—teacher they'd ever had, even if they're parents weren't quite so convinced. A child could only blow up the family garage so many times during a 'science experiment' before fingers started getting pointed. Nevertheless, the good grades they kept bringing home prevented anyone from actually trying to remove this 'Mr. Doctor' from his post.

Every day after work, the Doctor walked home whistling, off-key as usual, to find his wife waiting for him with a full-course meal. They'd had to decommission the kitchen—in the future, kitchens were designed to cook all by themselves, since it was a rather silly idea for a human to actually do any work when it came to supper—so that Amy could fill part of her time with inventing new recipes, all of which she tested on the Doctor. Not all of them were successful, but he would eat it anyway and try not to grimace as he told her how good it was. She was not, however, particularly fond of cleaning up, and allowed the apartment to do that for her.

For the first several months, Amy seemed to be enjoying herself. She fought with rude neighbors, made friends with the ones who weren't, visited the shops, took care of Ian and Jenna and watched them grow. The Doctor would come home and get attacked at the door by all three of them, there'd be something either edible or nonedible for supper, some family time, bedtime for the children, and then some closed-door time for the Doctor and Amy. The next day it started all over again.

Predictably, it didn't take long for the routine to get old for Amy. She'd gotten her dose of a normal—nearly—life, and she was starting to yearn for the TARDIS again. It had been standing on the roof, hidden by invisibility shields, for a year now, but every time she asked if they could travel in it again she was refused. It wasn't that the Doctor liked New London better; in fact, he was quite sick of it. If it wasn't for those bright faces eager to learn at the school—and the occasional class explosion—he would have died of boredom already. But the warning light on the TARDIS console continued to flash whenever he checked it, and even his ship seemed uneasy.

Eventually, Amy stopped meeting him at the door. She stopped inventing recipes, either making the same thing over and over again or leaving the Doctor to order out. She went to bed early when he wanted something else. She didn't tell him what she'd done that day, and any conversation often centered around the TARDIS and places she longed to visit. When Jenna said her first word—Dada, whereas Ian's had been Mummy—she didn't get excited. He often found her on the roof, having fallen asleep while stargazing, and with a sigh carried her back to their apartment.

In hopes of remedying the situation, the Doctor announced it was time to teach Amy Gallifreyan. This perked her interest for a while, and for the months that followed they sat with their heads together, pouring over Gallifreyan textbooks the Doctor had brought down from the TARDIS. He showed her the differences between the cuneiform-like Old High Gallifreyan, the interlocking, Circular Gallifreyan, and the Arabic-reminiscent script of Modern Gallifreyan. It was this last one that he decided to teach her, seeing as it was easier to write and pronounce. Nonetheless, as he had predicted, she struggled with even the basics, trying to wrap a brain that was used to the workings of English and very minimal French around a language that threw all the rules those two followed out the window. One day, after the Doctor told her that she wasn't rolling her tongue the correct amount of times, she slammed shut the textbook they'd been studying and marched off to their bedroom, the door crashing into its frame behind her. That was the end of the lessons for the time being.

After that, the Doctor decided to switch gears. He rented a transport and took his little family from one end of New Earth to the other. In New Egypt they ran into some trouble with drug dealers and had to make a break for it, which Amy thoroughly enjoyed. She was even laughing as they dodged the laser pulses, a sound the Doctor hadn't heard in a good long while, and even though it bothered him he couldn't help laughing with her as they ran back to their children. But then it was back to New London and routine, and her mood returned shortly after they arrived.

One day, Amy met the Doctor at the door once again, but not with a kiss that generally ended on the couch like it used to in the past. Her arms were crossed and her foot was tapping, and it was clear from her expression that she was cross. Jenna and Ian, who were now three and four and as full of energy as ever, could be heard playing in a room further back in the apartment.

"Three and a half years, Doctor. _Three and a half_ _years_."

The Doctor set down his briefcase, which although meant to make him look professional was actually full of knick knacks and thingamabobs he tinkered with whenever he got too bored. He could tell he was in for it. "Now Amy—"

"Don't you _dare_ 'now Amy' me! You promised we'd only be here for a short while, and then we could go back to the TARDIS. I assumed that would be only a few months, not nearly four bloody years!"

The Doctor's only chance was to cut her off now, distract her somehow, before she really got her Scottish temper up. "How about some grub, eh? There's this place around the corner that's quite famous for their pizza, I think they even have one with both sardines and pineapple on it—"

"Oh no, Doctor. You are _not_ getting out of this that easily."

"Amelia, I'm really sorry, but we can't leave yet."

"Why not? I know you. You can barely stay in one spot for an extended period of time, much less an apartment. What's keeping you here? What do you really do when you leave here every morning?" Amy's eyes suddenly widened, then narrowed. "There's someone else, isn't there? Another woman, or womanlike alien, or just an alien in general—"

"What? No! Whatever would give you a ridiculous idea like that?"

"Well what else am I supposed to think?"

"That I'm enjoying myself expanding young minds and nothing else, which is the truth." The Doctor rested his hands on her shoulders and stared straight into her eyes. She searched for a lie in them. "There's no one else for me but _you_, Amelia Pond. I only love and will ever love you."

"Then _why_? Why did you buy this place? Why won't you let me leave it?"

"I…thought you wanted this."

"Clearly you don't know me as well as you thought you did!"

"Amy, please don't say that…"

Amy hadn't realized until then how many emotions had been building up over time they'd spent in New London, intensifying only recently. And once she'd uncapped them, it was impossible to rein them in again. "Why not? You took me away from everything I knew, the monotony of life in Leadworth, taught me to see the universe through new eyes, witness all those unbelievable, marvelous things, and then you steal it away from me and plop me down here! What happened to the Doctor? What happened to that man I married?"

The Doctor released her shoulders and stumbled back as if he'd been stung. There were tears quivering in her eyes, despite her efforts to look as intimidating as she could. He hadn't comprehended before how much of an effect his plans had had on her, how much pain he'd inflicted.

"I'm going for a walk. Let me know when you've figured it out," Amy said coldly, grabbing her coat and pushing past him.

"Wait. Amelia!" The Doctor shouted, his response delayed by shock. But she was already turning the corner down the hall and pretended not to hear him.

The Doctor sighed and leaned back against the doorframe, sliding down it with his head in his hands. A second later he felt tiny fingers gripping his arm, warm and reassuring, and looked up into the innocent faces of his son and daughter.

"Daddy, where's Mummy gone?" Ian asked, his green eyes—Amy's eyes—wide as saucers. He had grown quite handsome in his four years, his rosy cheeks failing to lose their dimples and his brown hair as messy as his father's, tumbling over his forehead in waves.

"Yes, where'd she go?" Jenna voiced. Despite the six plus months that separated them, she was just as advanced in speech as her brother, even more so than most children their age. The Doctor nearly choked at the sight of her; she was the spitting image of the woman who had just stormed away from him, except for her one blue eye. Her orange hair was quite long for a three-year-old, framing her pixie-like face with its curious forehead, freckled nose, and pursed little lips.

"Don't worry, loves. Mummy's just out for a short walk."

"Were you fighting? Is that why she left?"

Jenna's honest tone pierced the Doctor straight through both hearts. "It was just a bit of a disagreement. Don't worry; she'll be back." He smiled as encouragingly as he was able and pulled them closer to him, their presence the only thing keeping his hearts from falling out entirely.


	28. One More Makes Three

**So I was going to save this update for tomorrow, but I figured you guys could use it a day early lol.**

**Please review! :)  
**

* * *

It was starting to drizzle as Amy left the apartment, but she was numb to it. Her feet moved on their own accord, pounding out a steady rhythm—the same dull footstep over and over again, and after staring at them for much too long she had to force herself to look up to quell the dizziness that resulted.

She hadn't meant to get that angry. All she'd wanted was the Doctor to understand how she felt, see how trapped she was on New Earth. There'd also been a headache rattling against her skull at the time, and a stomachache in her belly to top it off, which was enough to put anyone in a rotten temperament.

The further she got from the apartment complex the more her headache lessened, allowing her to think more clearly. This, however, only made her feel worse about what she'd done, and how desperately she craved to be in the Doctor's arms again no matter how many times she told herself she didn't want to have anything to do with him. Blinking the tears out of her eyes, she crossed her arms and looked straight ahead. The city was bustling even at this hour, the orbs of light from the streetlamps doing a poor job of illuminating the streets due to the weather. The smooth gray buildings merged with the gray wet streets and the slick coats of the people scurrying down the sidewalks, blending into dull shades of gray and blue and slate, bleeding together, spinning…

Amy reached out and grabbed a streetlamp to prevent herself from collapsing, her stomach twisting unpleasantly. If she was ill, this wasn't the kind of weather she needed to be out in. Sighting a café a little distance away, she made for it, figuring the bout could have resulted from skipping supper.

The chime over the door tinkled as she entered, and she tried to shake off as much water as she could before the coat rack in the entryway took her coat for her and a waiter seated her at a circular table. The opaque-skinned fellow gave her a funny look when she ordered something from just about every section of the menu, none of which complimented each other in the least, but said nothing before going off to fill it, a silver tail flicking back and forth behind him. During his absence, Amy studied the comfortable, softly-lit café interior in hopes that it would take her mind off her upset thoughts and the knots in her stomach.

When at last the food arrived, Amy tore into it with a ferocity that surprised even her. The more she ate the better she felt, giving her a chance to empty her mind of the feelings that had crowded it. She knew what she had to do, even it meant facing him again. Ian and Jenna needed her.

"Well well, if it isn't Amy Pond. Fancy meeting you here."

Amy was just paying her tab—a substantial amount that she felt no guilt using the Doctor's credits for—when she heard the cocky voice behind her. Dread entered her heart as she recognized who it belonged to.

"Fineas Beck."

"Glad to see you remembered." Three and a half years had made him no less of a rich brat, and his eyes wandering a little too freely down Amy's curves. She frowned and hastily retrieved her coat, wrapping it tightly around her to dissuade him.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, more indignant than interested, yet still wanting to know. Anavrin was a long way from New Earth, according to the Doctor's maps.

"Trading, of course. My father thinks I should learn to show some prowess in his growing company, so here I am." Fineas fell in step with Amy as she left the café, although she was none too pleased to have him as a companion. "Never thought I'd run across you again. But where, pray tell, is your husband?"

"At home. How are Clarion and River?"

"Fine, fine. Still busy rebuilding Anavrin. Why did he not come with you, then? The Doctor doesn't strike me as someone who lets you out of his sight."

Amy sighed, seeing that this would not be a question easily sidestepped. "We had a falling out, and I needed some time to think. I'm good now, though. Just headin' back."

"Or you could stay here instead, with me." Fineas grabbed her arm, making her pivot to face him. His eyes were dark and voracious. "I'd like to learn more about you, Amy."

The ginger's stomach lurched again, and she felt bile at the back of her throat. She wrenched out of his grip. "Sorry, Mr. Beck. I can't."

"What's stopping you?" He asked, reclaiming her arm. He was close. Much too close. She could smell the opium on his breath, and it made her head spin again.

"Listen, buster. I'm a happily married woman with two beautiful children. Now, unless you intend to lose that hand, I suggest you let. Go."

"If he really loves you, then why are you out here on your own?" Fineas's grip hadn't yet slackened. Rivulets of water were running into face from his hair, but he had more important things to focus on.

"Because a good man knows when not to be possessive. Perhaps you could take a page out of his book." With that Amy stomped down on his foot, making him cry out in pain and let go of her arm. The moment she was free she ran, shoving her way through the crowds. She could hear him cursing and giving chase, and she willed herself to speed up, weaving a zigzag path in hopes of losing him.

She could see the apartment complex, a white building in a sea of gray, looming nearer, but Fineas's footsteps were also gaining on her. Her body was begging her to stop, the muscles in her legs burning, and she knew she wasn't going to make it, that she was going to drop on all fours any second now and be sick right then and there, and Fineas would have her.

The lobby was devoid of people, much to Amy's dismay. She snatched up the most dangerous thing she could find—a letter opener—off the front desk and turned on Fineas, chest heaving, one hand grasping the desk for support. She wished the room would stop churning, and her stomach with it.

"I'm warnin' ya, don't come any nearer!" She told him, brandishing the letter opener.

Fineas looked at it with amusement before deliberately doing the opposite of what she said. His hand closed around her wrist just as she jabbed the point towards him and turned it, making the blunt blade fall from her hand.

"You don't look well, my dear. You should come back to my hotel with me and rest." Fineas's mouth curved into a smirk, and they both knew that she had lost.

Suddenly, however, the look in Fineas's eyes transformed from victory to surprise as he was dragged forcibly backward by his collar. It was with terror that he found himself face to face with an entirely different sort of storm than the one outside, although this one was a great deal more perilous.

"You seem to have a rather short memory, fella, because I recall telling you quite plainly three and a half years ago that you couldn't have my wife." The Doctor's eyes had lost their calm and were roiling like tempest-tossed waves at sea, and his voice, although low, rumbled with thunder.

Fineas gulped. "I—I—"

"Don't stutter; you'll never make friends if you keep that up. Now, consider this your lucky day, because I'm giving you one last chance to get out of my sight and never even think about coming near Amelia again. But bear in mind; if you do return, you're going to wish you were never born. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

Fineas nodded, flinching. When the Doctor released him, he staggered a little trying to get away from him, then turned and ran out of the apartment complex as fast as his legs could carry him.

Amy, who had slid down to the floor during the exchange, was staring determinedly at her hands in her lap. She was afraid to look at him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him crouch down beside her, felt him checking to see if Fineas had hurt her before placing two fingers under her chin and lifting it so that she had no choice but to meet his eyes.

The storm had dissipated from them, leaving tranquil waters in its wake. He'd been worried about her, she could tell.

"I'm sorry," they both said at the same time, but the Doctor placed a finger over her mouth to silence her.

"No, Amelia. You were right; I should have thought about what living here would do you, and for that I am sorry. But right now we need to get you out of these wet clothes." The Doctor picked her up and began carrying her towards the lift.

"But—"

"We can talk later," he cut in, and she didn't bother to say anything else for fear that she'd be sick all over him if she tried.

* * *

The children were asleep by the time they reached the apartment. As soon as they entered it, Amy scrambled out of the Doctor's arms and made a beeline for the toilet, everything she had just eaten refusing to stay down. The Doctor followed her and patiently wiped her mouth with a warm rag, then used a cool one to press against her forehead. She tried to shrug him off, but his hold on her was too strong.

"I guess I shouldn't have eaten so much when I went out. My eyes must be too big for my stomach," Amy said, still feeling a little nauseated.

"You'll feel better once you've had a bath," the Doctor informed as he turned on the hot water tap, not entirely convinced that the food had been the cause but not wanting to say anything yet. He had to be sure.

Later, after Amy was clean, dry, and in one of the Doctor's nightshirts, they climbed into bed together. She was upon him in an instant, her lips seeking his hungrily, her fingers prying at the waistband of his pants, searching for the security Fineas's appearance had taken away from her. Before she got far, though, the sleep that she needed more claimed her, and she went limp against him.

The Doctor waited until her breathing slowed to a pace that meant she wouldn't be easily wakened before reaching for his sonic screwdriver, which was lying on the bedside table. Careful not to disturb her, he held it above her and ran it the length of her prone form, then brought it up for inspection. A familiar feeling tugged at his gut, somewhere in between apprehension and ecstatic joy.

"Suppose this makes three for us, Pond," the Doctor told her in a soft voice, kissing her forehead lovingly.

* * *

**Hmm wonder what's going to happen next ;)**


	29. What's in a Name?

**Okay, so I admit, I did try to make this a trilogy. I promise I was going to end it after the third part, because I figured I could sum everything else up that I wanted to write into 32 chapters. Well.**

**I was wrong.**

**So, after this part ends, I shall be starting another one. This is your warning.  
**

**Only issue now is, what do I call it? A Fourlogy? Quatlogy? Fourquel? Lol.**

**Thanks for reading for this long, please review! :)**

* * *

Amy hadn't thought it possible that she could wake up feeling worse than the night before, but that morning proved her wrong. Another twist of her stomach sent her careening for the washroom, and, as if he'd been expecting it, the Doctor was there with a hair tie.

When she was done, she groaned and lay down, pressing her cheek against the cold tile. This, along with the Doctor's cool fingers raking her hair out of her face, helped somewhat. "All I did was go out in the flippin' rain," she muttered.

The Doctor chuckled. "Must be something in the water," he joked, his eyes twinkling as if he knew something she didn't.

Amy was about to ask what the heck he was on about when a pair of green eyes peered around the door. "What are you doing sleeping on the floor, Mummy?" Ian asked curiously.

Amy laughed and sat up, ignoring the twinge in her belly. She stretched her arms out, and Ian ran into them, his tiny body a consolation to her. "Morning, my little man. Are you hungry for breakfast?"

Ian brightened at this. "Oh yes, please!"

"Then go get your sister up and I'll make you some."

"Okay Mummy!"

With that the boy ran off, his sock-clad feet skittering as he made a sharp turn around the door.

"Actually, I'll take care of breakfast this time," the Doctor said, helping his wife up.

"Don't bother. I don't mind."

"Really, Amy, I've got it."

Amy looked up at him suspiciously. It wasn't that him cooking breakfast was unusual; in fact, it was one of the things he loved to do. Yet there was something in his tone, something different, protective. Or more protective than usual, at least. "Alright, buster. Tell me what you're keeping from me," Amy ordered, closing the washroom door and blocking it so he couldn't get by.

"The kids are probably getting into anything and everything as we speak," the Doctor said in his last attempt to put off the discussion.

"They'll be fine. Now talk."

The Doctor sighed, defeated. "I ran a scan on you last night, while you were asleep."

"Doctor!" Amy whacked his shoulder, getting an 'Oi!' out of him. "You _know_ I hate it when you scan me without my permission."

"Ahem, well, yes, but I had some suspicions I needed to confirm, and it seemed like the best time."

"I still don't like it."

"Yes, I realize that."

"Well then?"

"Well then what?"

"The scan. What's wrong with me?"

The Doctor cleared his throat and reached up to adjust his bowtie, which was currently not around his neck and left him grasping at air. "Well, technically speaking, there's nothing wrong with you at all."

"You do know that when you put 'technically speaking' behind anything, people are automatically going to assume that something _is_ wrong, right?"

"I really _am_ rather hungry, maybe we could talk about this—"

"Doc. Tor."

It was never a good omen when she turned his name into two words. The Doctor gulped. "The scan was for pregnancy. You showed up positive."

All the fury drained out of Amy's face as her eyes widened and her lips formed a small 'o'. "Positive?"

The Doctor nodded, his gaze locked on hers.

"I am such an idiot."

"No you're not—"

"Shut up. I can call myself an idiot if I want."

"Fine, you're an idiot. Ow!"

"I said _I _could call myself an idiot, not that you could."

"I apologize for missing that in the fine print. Would you mind telling me w_hy_ you're calling yourself an idiot?"

"Because I've already been pregnant twice. I should have recognized the symptoms from the off."

"You have been a bit…preoccupied." The Doctor thought it better not to bring up the row they'd had before she'd stormed out.

"Still." Amy's hands fluttered to her abdomen, feeling for the bump that had yet to form. "Are we going to be able to handle a third one?" She asked him, biting her lip while she waited for the answer.

"What kind of question is that, 'Are we going to be able to handle a third one?' We could handle ten!"

"That better not be a proposition, mister, because seven more babies are NOT coming out of this body."

"Well maybe not _seven_…" the Doctor trapped her against the door and kissed her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, closing the gap between them. Neither remembered about the food that had been promised a certain four-year-old until two pairs of fists pounded on the other side of the door demanding it.

"So, Doctor, what's for breakfast?" Amy asked breathlessly, smiling.

* * *

Thankfully, the new baby on its way was enough to distract Amy—for the time being—from her mission to get back on the TARDIS. They estimated that she was a little over two months along, and had learned right away that it was another boy. The battle over what his name would be ensued shortly after, while they were lying in bed the following night.

"Personally, I think Barnaby is a smashing name."

"We are _not_ naming our child after a dead glowing fish."

"Why not?"

"Because it's weird."

"What about Alonso, then?"

"Over my dead body."

"Alright, what do you suggest?"

Amy thought about this. "How about Seamus?"

"No, doesn't sound right."

"Well he is half Scottish."

"And half Time Lord."

"Oh yes, because Ian and Jenna are thoroughly Time Lord names."

"What about…Winston?"

"Seriously? You're borrowing from Churchill now?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"First off, he'd get called Winnie."

"I like it. There've been a lot of good, brilliant people named Winnie."

"And stuffed bears."

"I fail to see your point, Amelia."

"We're not naming him Winston."

"Picky picky."

"Well he is going to be stuck with this name for the rest of his life. Unless he decides to adopt some kind of profession-based title that makes absolutely no sense considering he doesn't have a medical degree."

"I feel like you're trying to tell me something."

"Nah, really?"

"Okay, let's try this. What was your father's name?"

"Augustus. But we are sooo not using that."

"We could shorten it to August."

Amy was just opening her mouth to shoot down the idea when something stopped her. She'd buried the memory of her parents away in the far reaches of her brain not long after their deaths, hoping to rid herself of the grief. She didn't want to cry anymore, to appear weak, even as a child. In doing so, however, she had nearly forgotten them altogether. What better way to remember her father than to name her second son after him?

"Fine. We can name him August. But if anyone makes fun of him for being named after a month, it's your fault."

"No one's going to make fun of him. It's a cool name, August Pond."

"The fact that you think it is proves my point."

* * *

As the weeks passed, Amy's morning sickness began hitting her full-force every day without fail. She did her best to keep up with Ian and Jenna when the Doctor went off to work, but he often came home to a child-ransacked apartment due to Amy's constant visits to the toilet. One afternoon, when he discovered the two troublemakers had taken out his entire bowtie collection and tied them together to make a skipping rope, he decided then and there that enough was enough.

"I'm resigning, Amy," the Doctor announced that evening as she tried to clean up after a toy tornado had ravaged the family room. The apartment's built-in self-cleaning system had stopped working a week before, which was no surprise considering both Ian and Jenna had been found messing with the controls. Not even the Doctor had been able to fix it.

Amy straightened, stretching out her back. Her baby bump was more pronounced now at three months, and she'd actually gone out and bought maternity clothing this time. The Doctor rather liked the pale-yellow tunic and brown leggings she was currently wearing, especially since they accentuated the curves that were filling out again. He wasn't quite sure how she always got even more beautiful when she was expecting. "Are you sure 'bout that? I mean, I know how much you like teaching those pint-size hooligans."

"Children, Amy."

"Same difference."

The Doctor shook his head. "Yes I love teaching them, but I have to think about you lot first."

"I'm fine. We're fine," Amy said, a little too early. Just then, Ian and Jenna ran through the room, waving the Doctor's braces over their heads like lassos and shrieking their heads off. Amy shouted after them to stop, but, caught up in their game, they neglected to heed her. When she made to chase them down, a kick in her belly halted her progress before she was even halfway across the room. Inhaling sharply, she leaned against a chair and massaged where the baby's miniscule foot had dug in. It wasn't really so much that it had hurt; just that it had been a surprise.

"Go ahead and lie down. I'll deal with Ian and Jenna." The Doctor's arms slid around her middle almost instantaneously, even though he'd been across the room the second before.

"What, you're going to keep track of both of 'em? All by yourself?"

"Of course! I'm their father. They have to listen to me."

"Try telling them that."

"I intend to." The Doctor kissed her neck, the heat from his breath only making her realize how weary she was. "Off you go, now," he told her, nudging her in the direction of their room.

Amy muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'Alright; it's your funeral,' before complying, her feet dragging across the floor all the way there.

The bed was a welcome sight after the chaos in progress on the other end of the apartment. Amy changed into a sleep tee and sunk into the blankets with a sigh. Her hands automatically went to her stomach, tracing the bump her son made in it. She loved him already, her little August—hers and the Doctor's—even if it was because of his existence that her body felt as if it was trying to turn itself inside out. All he was trying to do was grow healthy and strong, which was what she wanted as well.

As she drifted off, Amy's mind wandered to the night before the Doctor informed her she was carrying the boy. She'd meant to trick him the following day into telling her the truth about why they had been living on New Earth for so long, but in all the surprise and excitement the news brought she'd quickly forgotten. She resigned to ask him once again as soon as she woke up before sleep overtook her.

* * *

**By the way, I happen to have a four-year-old sister who's going on five next month, and she's as crazy as they come lol. So I definitely have some firsthand experience with that. I can't imagine how much crazier it could get with a kid who has the Doctor and Amy as parents :)**


	30. A Taste of Perfection

**Two more chapters till the end of this story and the beginning of the...Fourquel!**

**Just wanted to tell those of you who write the paragraph-long reviews that you are AWESOME! Those are my favorite to read :)**

* * *

The Doctor had seen a lot of destruction in his nine hundred years, but there was nothing that quite compared to what a three and four year old could do when unsupervised for even two minutes. It looked as if a cyclone had come through, knocking over furniture and leaving the ever-present, mysterious trail of toys. With a sense of foreboding he followed it, wondering not for the first time if it had been wise to combine his and Amy's DNA two and now three times in a row.

He found them in the kitchen, dipping a spoon each into the sugar tub.

"No no no no no!" Snatching the tub away from them as if it was on fire, he put it on the highest shelf in the cupboard. How they had gotten to it in the first place, he didn't want to know. "Sugar is bad for you. Very very bad for you," he reprimanded, shaking a finger at them.

Unfortunately, the sugar high was already starting to kick in for both of them. "Play tag, Daddy?" Jenna begged, taking ahold of the sleeve of his tweed jacket and jumping up and down at a dizzying speed.

"No one's playing tag till this mess is cleaned up," the Doctor announced. His words fell on deaf ears, however.

"Tag, you're it!" Ian shouted, whacking his father's leg before he and Jenna zipped off, giggling.

"Ian! Jenna! You get back here right this instant before I…get really angry and figure out what I'm going to do with you!" The Doctor yelled, chasing after them.

* * *

Amy woke up several hours after lying down to hunger pangs. She tried to ignore them, but it got to the point where food was all she could think about. Reluctantly she got out of bed and padded towards the kitchen, where she quickly finished off that evening's supper leftovers.

She was halfway to her bedroom when she realized just how quiet the dark apartment was. Finding this rather odd, she veered off her original path and went in search of her family.

She found them in the laundry room, passed out on the floor and surrounded by an ocean of toys and odds and ends. The Doctor had somehow lost his jacket and bowtie, his shirt was hanging halfway out of his trousers, and his hair was sticking up as if he'd been electrocuted. He had a child pinned in each arm, their breathing heavy and a white circle of some kind of granule-like substance around their mouths. Amy grinned, knowing what he must have gone through to have ended up like this. Repositioning Jenna closer to her brother, she laid down beside him, resting her head on his chest. Still asleep, his arm wound around her waist, and he exhaled as if he was finally at peace.

It was in this position that they slept until morning, unperturbed by the hardness of the linoleum floor underneath or the slight chill of the night. All that mattered was that they had each other.

* * *

"Alright, Doctor. I think it's time you told me why we've been here in New London for so long. The truth and nothing else." Amy demanded as she tucked in a plate piled high with waffles and strawberries, a good dollop of whipped cream and drizzle of chocolate syrup on top.

The Doctor paused his washing of the dishes—the self-cleaning system being out meant the kitchen needed attention as well—and looked at her. Having just finished their breakfast, Ian and Jenna had run off to play again, leaving him with no way of escape.

He took a moment to study her while he collected his thoughts. She was still wearing the tempting pink sleep shirt that went just a little off her shoulders, and her brilliant mane of red hair was slightly tousled. The way she was putting away the plate of waffles was enough to make any man's heart melt, much less a man with two. He sighed.

"Fine, okay. After we left Anavrin, a warning light on the TARDIS began going off. Someone was trying to track her."

"But that was almost four years ago. Surely they're gone by now."

The Doctor shook his head. "Not according to the sensor. They're still at it."

"I don't really see what the big deal is. Can't we just fire up the TARDIS and lose them?"

"Of course not. The only reason they haven't found us all these years is because we haven't 'fired up' the TARDIS. They're locked onto her signal, not ours."

Amy frowned. "And who, exactly, are 'they'?"

"I'm not sure."

"So we're hiding from someone and you're not even sure who they are?"

"I've had things like this happen before, Amy, and it never ended well. They're not after us to exchange pleasantries over tea, I can tell you that much."

"You could have let me know about this earlier."

"I didn't want to worry you. It's hard enough to take care of Ian and Jenna, and now August, without having to concern yourself with a possible enemy. That's my job."

"I still would have preferred to know. Here I was thinkin' you'd gone batty and wanted to settle down for the rest of our lives."

"Don't even joke, Pond."

"So what do we do now, then?"

"We wait for them to lose interest."

"That's it?"

"Nothing else we can do."

"What if they never lose interest? Didn't you learn anything from what happened with Fineas?"

The Doctor's expression darkened at the mention of the Anavrinian's name. He'd spent most of the night after he'd run Fineas off thinking of all the things he would do to the cur if he foolishly chose to return, none of which were mildly agreeable in the least. Although he typically considered himself a nonviolent person, something changed inside him when it came to the woman he loved. He'd protect her in any way possible. "I'm sure they will at some point."

"Or you could just start up the TARDIS and get it over with. Send whoever it is packin' as soon as they show up."

"No. I'm not going to put the lives of you or the children in danger." The Doctor set down the plate he'd been polishing incessantly and circled the island so that he was standing next to her barstool. He clasped her hands in his. "Everything's going to be fine, I promise. We just have to be patient."

"You of all people should know I'm very bad at being patient," Amy said with a mischievous grin, reaching up to meet his lips. She tasted like sugar and chocolate and perfection, and the Doctor found himself pulling her off the barstool in order to mold her shape to his, her legs wrapping around his waist. Inexplicably, his feet began taking them in the direction of their bedroom.

"Leaving Ian and Jenna to their own devices probably isn't the brightest idea," Amy said in a low voice, although her actions indicated she had no desire to stop anytime soon.

"Well I never was one for bright ideas."

* * *

When Amy reached her fourth month of pregnancy, the Doctor suggested they play the part of a normal, domesticated family even better by going to see an OB/GYN. Amy, however, wasn't too fond of the idea.

"We never did that with Ian or Jenna," she argued, having planted herself firmly on the couch in the living room with no intent of moving. Her arms were crossed over her growing stomach, and the resolute look on her face would have scared off a lesser man.

"We never got the chance with Ian and Jenna. And remember; Ian nearly drained you of everything you needed to stay alive. I don't want something like that happening again."

"It didn't happen with Jenna."

"Only because we were prepared, but there are other problems besides nutrient deficiencies." The Doctor didn't say anything about how Jenna's birth had almost claimed her life. Voicing it would only remind him that the same thing could happen with August, and he'd rather not face that possibility just yet. He'd take whatever steps were necessary to prevent it.

"But August's half Time Lord. Isn't that going to be a problem?"

"Just as much as being half Scottish will. New Earth is very accepting of all races; just about everything has passed by this planet at some point or another." The Doctor sat down next to her and reached for her right hand, rubbing circles into it. "What's the actual reason you don't want to go, Amy?" He asked.

"I don't like doctors."

The Doctor's lip curled. "Ironic considering you married me."

"Yeah, but it's not like you're a _real_ doctor, like the kind that likes to stick needles in your arm and sonogram probes up your—backside," Amy said, changing the word at the last minute since Ian and Jenna were playing nearby. She shivered at the thought.

"What sort of sick person would do that?"

"Every medical institution in existence back on Earth. Well, my Earth, anyway."

"That's positively barbaric!"

"Thank you for seeing it too. So I don't have to go?"

"Of course you have to go. Technology is far more advanced here; they don't have to use—ahem—probes."

Amy pouted.

"If you're a good girl I'll buy you an ice cream on the way home."

It was amazing what the mention of a food she was currently craving could do to Amy's mood. Her stomach even rumbled. "Can we go to that place you told me about where the small size is five scoops?"

"If that's what you want."

"Well I suppose a quick visit wouldn't hurt…"


	31. Doctor's Visit

Amy stalled as much as she could. She took her time getting out of bed, and then even longer in the washroom than her morning sickness generally lasted. Next she spent forever picking out what to wear, complaining everything made her look fat, which was far from the truth. Throughout it all, the Doctor waited, glancing at his watch every three minutes, until his patience ran out and he ended up all but dressing Amy for her, brushing her hair, and shoving breakfast into her mouth. After dispatching Ian and Jenna to a kind, motherly neighbor who they had grown close with during the years they'd lived there, the Doctor pushed Amy out the door and into the lift before the woman had the chance to regret it.

"Quite frankly I haven't the foggiest why you're being such a baby about this," he commented as the lift shot downward. "You might as well get it over with."  
"Oi, I have the right to be a baby when I'm carrying one. Otherwise it'd be a complete waste of hormones," Amy retorted, crossing her arms again and sticking out her chin. She fit the part a little too well, and for a moment the Doctor felt a pang of guilt, remembering the child she'd been before he had to come along and catastrophically alter her life.

"Which would be a terrible tragedy, of course."

"Yeah, it would. Now did you bring any snacks?"

"What, after all those eggs and sausages you're still hungry?"

"'Course I am. I could eat a horse right now."

"Really? Is that something humans during your time did on a regular basis?"

"Earth expressions really are lost on you, aren't they?"

"A good deal of them, regrettably."

"Too bad. But you did bring something, right?"

The Doctor sighed and, much to Amy's delight, pulled a little Tupperware of custard with fish finger bits mixed in out of his inside jacket pocket. A silver spoon followed.

"You know me so well," she said happily, planting a kiss on his cheek as she snatched the container and spoon from him.

* * *

The OB/GYN that the Doctor had chosen was the best in New London, and was hard to secure an appointment with—for just anyone. Luckily, however, the Doctor had once saved her home planet from getting sucked into a black hole, and no request was too much to ask for him.

When they arrived at the office, the Doctor practically had to steer Amy inside, his hand planted on her waist to discourage any attempts of escape. She spent a few minutes glaring at him before the waiting room—which was modern and airy, with a peaceful, trickling fountain against one wall—drew away her focus.

"Hello there! We're here to see Dr. Kozar," the Doctor said chirpily to the receptionist at the front desk.

The receptionist looked over her frameless rectangular glasses at him with a cool, indifferent expression painted on her prim features. Her white-blond hair was pulled back into a chignon, so tightly that it seemed to stretch the skin over her rouged cheekbones. A name tag clipped to her scrubs was labeled 'Gretchen Teach'. "Name?" She asked in a tone that suggested she had better things to do.

"Amelia Pond. Let her know the Doctor is with her, if you please," replied the Doctor.

This bit of information didn't seem to faze Gretchen in the least. "Very well. Please have a seat."

"Thank you, Gretchen." As if it was the greatest honor in the world to be invited to sit in office chairs, the Doctor bounded over to a row of them, tugging Amy with him.

"Comfy chairs, Amy!" He whispered excitedly, bouncing a little on the ivory-white seat cushion. The bat-eared family nearby cast him funny looks, and Amy pretended to not have heard him.

While they were waiting, the Doctor attempted to read a magazine on the subject of prenatal health, but it was a little difficult to do with only one hand. His other was clasped in Amy's, whose knuckles were slowly turning white due to her tight grip.

"I already told you there's no reason to be nervous, Amy," the Doctor said, giving up on the magazine.

"I'm not nervous!" Amy retorted, although the way her eyes were darting all over the room like that of a caged animal said otherwise. "Besides, that receptionist gives me the creeps. She keeps lookin' over here at me," Amy whispered back.

"How do you know she's not looking at me? People tell me I'm quite attractive."

"Oh please. She's at least ten years older than you."

"Not technically."

"Well she doesn't know that."

Just then, a door behind the receptionist slid to the side, and a nurse with a clipboard appeared. "Mrs. Pond, Dr. Kozar will see you now," she announced.

Amy glanced at the Doctor and gulped.

"Come along, my brave Pond," he said with a smile, still holding her hand as he stood up and led her through the open door.

The first part of the visit was standard; vitals, height, weight, and questions about if Amy's body was behaving normally, at least for having a half-Time Lord child inside it. Then the nurse left, to be followed by Dr. Kozar herself only a minute later. The most obvious thing about her was that she wasn't human; she had spotted red skin, her eyes were bulbous and black, and there was a long tail sticking out the bottom of her white coat. Despite the humanoid body dressed in slacks and a white blouse beneath the coat and the pearls around her neck, the doctor reminded Amy of a rather large salamander. This didn't really make her feel any more comfortable.

"Doctor! What a pleasure to see you again. You're looking…young," Dr. Kozar greeted with a wide smile, stepping forward to shake his hand.

"Same to you, Doctor," the Time Lord said warmly.

"Been a while since you and that marvelous machine of yours pulled Amphiboran away from that black hole. How have you been?"

"Excellent, thanks for asking. And yourself?"

"I can't complain. My practice has been quite successful."

"Well-deserved, I'm sure. You've done a fine job."

"Thank you, Doctor." Dr. Kozar turned her large eyes on Amy, who had remained silent for the time they spent catching up. "And this is your lovely wife you were telling me about, I presume."

"Salome Kozar, this is Amy Pond. Amy, Salome Kozar," the Doctor introduced.

"It's nice to meet you, Amy." Dr. Kozar smiled again and stretched out her froglike hand, which Amy hesitated before shaking. The alien consulted the clipboard the nurse had given her in the hall. "So you're human, I see, yet with a stymied aging cycle. Interesting." She made a note on the paper, but otherwise seemed unbothered by the anomaly. She motioned for Amy to sit on the examination table. "So, Amy, everything seems to be normal as far as your vitals are concerned, and your weight is fine. I would like to take a blood sample or two, however, and then we can move on to the ultrasound."

"Blood sample? As in, with a needle?" Amy was starting to look flighty again. The Doctor settled his hand on her arm just in case.

Dr. Kozar chuckled, although not in a patronizing manner. "Unfortunately, as far as we've advanced, the medical profession has yet to discover a way to extract blood without the aid of needles. Don't fret, dear; I promise it'll be over before you know it."

Amy didn't respond, but the death glower she shot the Doctor was enough to get her point across. Ignoring it, he smiled encouragingly, his hand never leaving her arm.

As the salamander woman wrapped a blue tourniquet around Amy's other arm and prepared the needle—which was far too big in Amy's opinion—the Doctor did his best to distract her.

"Just keep thinking about that ice cream we're getting after, Amy. They've got every flavor in the universe—even things like grass and dirt if you're into that sort of thing. And blood, too—but, erm, I suppose you'd rather not know about that one at the moment. Yes. Well, there is strawberry and pistachio and chocolate—death by chocolate, Amy, I know how you like that—and mint and amaretto. Then there are the cones, waffle cones in vanilla and chocolate and strawberry, and they've even got banana splits and milkshakes, and a fizzy drink fountain that's actually a fountain. Doesn't that sound delightful, Amy?"

"There we go. All done," Dr. Kozar announced, interrupting him.

"What are you talkin' about?" Surprised, Amy looked away from the Doctor to find that the woman had already taken, not one, but two vials of blood from the crook of her arm and was currently removing the tourniquet.

Dr. Kozar chuckled again. "I did tell you that it would be over before you knew it. Especially considering that your husband here has a bit of a mouth on him."

"Oi!"

"Well there's no point in denying it, Doctor. There are some things that never change," said Dr. Kozar as she inserted the vials of blood into a drawer. The drawer slid automatically back into the wall, and the computer screen above it flickered on. A bar came into focus across the screen, indicating the percentage of how much progress the computer had made in analyzing the samples.

"She hit that one on the nose," Amy muttered with a smirk, nudging the Doctor.

"I really need to stop hanging around women so much. You lot are like elephants; never forget anything." The Doctor huffed dramatically. "It's quite disturbing."

Amy and Dr. Kozar exchanged knowing looks.

"Can we get to that ultrasound now?" The Doctor asked. If there was anything worse than a female's memory, it was them joining forces against him.

"I suppose we can go ahead with that while we're waiting for the results to load," Dr. Kozar answered, still grinning. She led them to a different room, one with a cot and a computer screen that more closely resembled a flat-screen telly. After requesting that Amy lie down on the cot—which she did hesitantly, the fear of probes still fresh on her mind after the needle experience—the OB/GYN picked up a device that looked a bit like a bristle-less hairbrush with an elongated handle, a blue light shining from the larger end. The Doctor took up his post at the head of the cot, one hand trapped in Amy's and the other combing through her hair, as Dr. Kozar pushed up his wife's shirt to reveal her globelike belly. This came as a small relief to Amy; it reduced the possibility of the device ending up further down in a place she wouldn't allow it.

Having been expecting the cold gel that was often associated with sonograms, Amy was surprised when Dr. Kozar merely waved the transducer over her stomach and hit a few keys on the computer's keyboard. An image immediately appeared on the screen, one that took the human girl's breath away.

There was August, three dimensional and in full color, curled up in his little cocoon. His skin was a strange, translucent pink, and there were parts of him that didn't seem quite finished growing, but he was beautiful all the same. Amy looked up at the Doctor and saw that he was sharing in the same wonder she was, his gaze riveted on the image as if he'd never seen new life before. His eyes dropped to connect with hers, and her heart shuddered a little at the sight of the raw love blazing in them.

"It's our son, Amelia. Our August," the Doctor said, croakily at first. Then he smiled. "He's turning into a fine lad."

"A perfectly healthy lad, in fact. He's growing fast," Dr. Kozar spoke up. "Now, Doctor, you told me you had two other children. I assume their gestation cycles didn't last nine months."

"It was six, actually, for both of them."

"As I thought. Your race matures rather quickly in the womb, it appears, and Amy's human body is unable to support a child of yours for the full amount of time. Hence the early births. I'd expect this one about two or three months from now."

"So close," Amy remarked as the Doctor squeezed her hand. "I can't wait to meet him."

"What about Amy? All her systems up to par?" The Doctor asked anxiously.

"Well why don't we go find out? The results from her blood should be transmitted fully by now," said Dr. Kozar, pulling Amy's shirt back down for her and helping her sit up.

On their way back to the examination room, Amy walked with a new spring in her step. She'd finally seen him, finally gotten a glimpse of a miracle she'd been unable to witness so early with Ian and Jenna, and she was practically glowing with happiness. The Doctor, on the other hand, although just as pleased, was still experiencing a sense of anxiety as they neared the machine that would inform him of Amy's fate.

So when Dr. Kozar turned back towards them after reading the screen with a grave expression on her face, it was almost as he'd been expecting it. This did not, however, lessen the plummeting sensation in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

"Gestational diabetes."

The two words were like weights in the Doctor's hearts as soon as they left Dr. Kozar's wide lips. He directed Amy over to the exam table, his hand never leaving hers.

"Diabetes?" The joy in Amy's eyes flickered out; something the Doctor hated to watch.

"I'm afraid so. Basically, your body isn't secreting the excess insulin required during pregnancy, which regulates the blood sugar. Your glucose levels are unusually high, even taking into consideration what you ate this morning. In most cases gestational diabetes doesn't occur until the last trimester, which is now for you."

"Are you positive she has it?" The Doctor asked, although he already knew the answer.

Dr. Kozar nodded. "Glucose tests have developed a great deal in the past billion years. This one is the most accurate test we have to date."

"So what now?" Amy questioned, attempting a brave face.

"Luckily, we caught it before it got too out of hand, so the treatment is relatively simple. Just eat a healthier diet and exercise more. I'm also prescribing you an insulin pill to take along with your prenatal vitamins. It will control your blood sugar and is designed to eliminate the diabetes within a month, so you won't have to wait until the child is born to be rid of it."

"But aside from the gestational diabetes she's fine, right?" Said the Doctor.

"Absolutely. The supplements she's already taking are ensuring that. Just keep up with those and the insulin pill and she should be alright."

* * *

"So I guess this means no ice cream," Amy said dejectedly, her shoulders slumping as they walked back to the waiting room.

"I'm sorry, Amy. I shouldn't have promised it to you." The Doctor threaded his arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head, but she didn't lean into him like she usually did. "How about frozen yoghurt? There's this one place I've heard of that uses a natural sugar substitute in their ingredients; comes from a leaf I think. Ingenious."

"Well it's no five scoops of sugary creamy goodness, but it will have to do." Amy sighed. "Wait, what about fish custard?" She stopped walking and grabbed him by the lapels, pushing him against the wall. It was a fortunate thing they hadn't reached the door to the waiting room yet and therefore there was no one around. "I'm not giving up fish custard. No way."

"Calm down, Amy. Deep breaths, in, and out, in, and out." At last the Doctor managed to uncurl her talon-like fingers from his jacket and closed them in between his to discourage further tweed-rumpling. "I'm sure we can make an exception for that. For some strange reason I think it actually helps you."

Amy relaxed, and they continued on. "Worst part of this is the exercising bit. If you're not running away from something that may potentially kill you, then what's the point of doing it any other time?"

"Might as well get some muscles on this noodle-y body of yours."

"Oi! You feel like sleeping on the sofa tonight?"

"No, dear."

"Then shut up."

"Yes, dear."

* * *

**Okay honestly, besides what I learned from Wikipedia and like one person not even that close to me getting it, I know next to nothing about gestational diabetes. But I figure, billions years into the future, they may invent a test for it so accurate they can find out in a few minutes from a blood sample only**, **and maybe even a pill that eliminates it early. Or maybe they'll find a cure to entirely eliminate it; who knows. All I know is that taking liberties is easier when you write in a future setting, and I am quite enjoying it :)**

**Also, there is a natural sweetener that comes from a leaf, called Stevia. Or Truvia, in granulated form. It is quite good, and I've been waiting for them to put it in frozen yogurt for ages. Sigh. Lol**

**Please review! One more chapter to go!  
**


	32. Blackout

**So my parents decided to go to Atlanta for some karate tournament thing this weekend, and since I didn't want to be by myself I'm going to be sleeping over at a friend's house. We have a lovely agenda planned: Anne of Green Gables marathon (my friend calls it 'rehab for our Doctor Who addiction', since we have to wait so long for the rest of this season's episodes lol), Sour Patch Kids for breakfast, that sort of thing.**

**Because of this, I decided to post this chapter earlier than intended.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Gretchen Teach hated children. She hated them so much that she had never dated or gotten married for fear of having one. To her they were a necessary evil, required for keeping an area populated but not good for anything else. Being a receptionist in an OB/GYN's office hadn't been her first choice as a profession; in fact, it had been her very last choice. But it paid the bills, and she figured it was better than working for a pediatrician. The very thought of screaming tots running rampant in a waiting room gave her the chills.

The day the man with the bowtie and the idiotic hair waltzed in with his pregnant wife and announced he was the Doctor, however, Gretchen knew her days of pretending she cared about the lives of all the hormonal women who gabbed on and on to her while they were waiting were finally over. They both fit the description perfectly, and when Gretchen broke into the office's files later that night, she was thrilled to find that she had been correct in her assumption. And what luck, that the human was carrying his baby! They'd been specific about their preference of a child, if one existed; as young as could be managed. She was pretty sure an unborn one would more than suffice.

Stuffing the file in her purse, Gretchen walked home as quickly as she could, the many digits that made up the reward they'd posted scrolling through her head and spurring her on. She could quit her job once she had those credits, and retire early for good measure.

Once she reached her flat, the woman went straight for her phone and dialed a number. Her manicured fingernails tapped impatiently on the countertop as the dial tone followed. At last, there was a click on the other end.

"Hello, this is Gretchen Teach, resident of New London, New Earth. I think—no, I am certain—I've found who you've been searching for," she said, her lips curving into a smirk.

* * *

"Amy. Amelia, wake up. It's just a bad dream, nothing more."

With a gasp Amy returned to consciousness, her breath coming in short bursts, her brow damp with sweat. Annoyed by the jolt of her sitting up so suddenly, August chose that moment to shift into a more comfortable position, making his mother double over in pain. She felt strong arms encircle her, and a second later she was dragged back into the Doctor's warm chest, his fingers skimming through her hair, his steady voice in her ear calming her. She curled up against him and clung to him, surprised to find that her face was wet with tears.

"There were all these men; faceless men. They came for me, took me away from you and Ian and Jenna. I tried, but I couldn't get away from them, and they threw me into this cell—"

"Shhh, Amelia. It was a nightmare. You're fine, you're safe. I won't let anything happen to you," the Doctor told her, rocking back in forth in a soothing rhythm.

Eventually his efforts were successful, and Amy stopped shaking. She refused to slacken her grip, however. "It was the worst nightmare I've ever had. Even compared to the ones from Bai."

"It wasn't real, though. Just a product of your subconscious." The Doctor's lips pressed against her forehead before moving down to nuzzle a spot behind her ear. Her eyes slid closed, and she relaxed, just as he had intended. In no time she was asleep, and he laid her down on the pillows and settled next to her, her body still enfolded in his arms. But unlike her, the remainder of his night was spent wide awake, his mind plagued by the unknown threat that loomed over both their heads.

* * *

The following morning began early for Amy, with the Doctor shaking her awake. At first she thought it was still night, but a peek at the window revealed the sun was just starting to rise above the dark city, tinting the deep blue sky a pinkish gold around the edges.

"What time is it?" She asked, her voice still husky with sleep. She noticed he was fully dressed and looked as if he had been up for hours, which was most likely the case.

"Six o' clock on the dot."

"Then why did you wake me up?"

"Because the best time to start calisthenics is bright and early."

"Start what?"

"Exercise."

"Okay, how about this: you go ahead with that and I'll stay here until it's actually bright outside."

"Come on, Amy. You heard what the doctor said. This is vital to the health of you and the baby."

Unable to figure a way out of it, Amy groaned and sat up. The familiar surge of nausea hit her almost immediately, making her fall back into the pillows, her hands clutched to her stomach. "I am sooo over this having kids thing."

The Doctor laid a cool hand on her forehead, checking to ensure that it wasn't anything more than morning sickness. "How about some breakfast? You'll be up and at 'em in no time afterward."

"That's what I'm afraid of," said Amy, waiting another minute before heaving herself out of bed.

* * *

Breakfast turned out to be oatmeal and fruit, with a bit of honey drizzled over everything. When the Doctor slid it in front of her with a glass of milk, she just stared at it and then at him.

"What?"

"I'm more in the mood for chocolate pancakes."

"Yes, but that doesn't exactly fall under the classification of 'healthy'."

"Of course it does. It's got, um, fiber, and…there's protein in chocolate chips, right?"

"Nice try."

"Shut up."

"Just taste it, Amy."

Amy had never been one to turn down food, something that became amplified when she was expecting and therefore hungry at all times. She reached for the spoon and slowly brought it to her lips.

The bowl was wiped clean in seconds. Amy pushed it back towards the Doctor expectantly, who laughed and scooped a second helping into it from a pan on the flat stovetop.

* * *

"I. Am going. To die."

"No you're not. You're doing fine!"

"I'm _sweating_. I don't sweat."

"I'm pretty sure it's impossible for humans not to sweat at some point in their lives."

"I. Hate you."

"Now you know that's not true."

"It so is."

"Is not."

"Doctor, zip it!" Amy stopped jogging for a moment to catch her breath, her hands on her knees. The Doctor had bought her black jogging pants and a matching top for the occasion, as well as a polyester jacket to ward off the slight spring chill. She'd fastened her long red hair back into a ponytail herself, but he'd had to help her with getting her trainers on, what with August in the way. Amy couldn't help but be jealous of him; he never had to worry about not being able to see over his stomach. He was even dressed in his regular ensemble, bowtie included, without one bead of sweat shining on his forehead.

"Here," the Doctor said, procuring a bottle of water from one of his bottomless inside jacket pockets. Gratefully Amy took it, not bothering to stop and marvel at the fact that it was as cold as if it had just come out of a freezer before gulping half of it down.

"Can't we just stop now? I'm about to pass out," Amy asked once she was mostly recovered.

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Sounds fun to me. Besides, Ian and Jenna could have given Mrs. Bloom a heart attack by now. I'm surprised she agreed to take 'em again after watching them last time."

"It was only a little explosion. And remember, Mrs. Bloom said that lamp had faulty wiring anyway, so it wasn't _entirely_ their fault."

"Mhmm. Sure."

The Doctor opened his mouth to further defend his renegade offspring when he suddenly noticed how empty the street was. Despite the fact that it was early, they were still in a residential area, and there should have been at least one person out walking a dog or fetching the paper or something to that effect.

Without warning, the sky went black, as if someone had snuffed out the sun. The only light came from the distant streetlamps, which had automatic sensors.

"Doctor, what's going on?" Amy asked nervously, her eyes trying to adjust to the sudden change in light.

The Doctor was just as confused as she was, looking around for an answer to the question but finding nothing out of the ordinary besides the lack of sun. This was exactly what he'd been afraid of. "We need to get back to the apartment."

"But—"

"NOW, Amelia! GO!"

The Doctor shoved her ahead of him. She stumbled a bit and nearly fell forward, but he caught her under the arms just in time. They ran together, him propelling her along when she couldn't keep up.

They were too late, however. A few minutes later the Doctor felt something prick his neck. Stopping, he reached up and plucked out a rather large dart, its contents having already been discharged into his bloodstream. His hearts started beating frantically. _No._

"Doctor! Doctor, what's happening? Is it them? What did they do to you?" Amy grabbed ahold of both of his hands, the dart having fallen to the ground. Whatever it had been loaded with must have been quite potent indeed, created especially for a Time Lord, for the Doctor was already becoming unsteady on his feet, the darkened street spinning at an alarming rate around him.

"Run, Amy…get away while you still…can…" The Doctor's vision was starting to blur as he sunk to his knees, collapsing entirely when he found himself unable to maintain his balance.

"No. No, I won't leave you." She was still holding on to him as if it would keep him conscious, although she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

"Fight them…Amy. Don't let…them take you." All he could see now was her face, flooded with concern and terror, so beautiful regardless. It pained him more than words could express to know he was about to lose her—and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Amy nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. She lay down beside him, pulling his arms around her, and held his face between her palms. "I love you," she told him, brushing her lips against his.

"Love…you." The last of the Doctor's strength spent on these two words, his eyes closed, and his head lulled to side.

Amy choked on a sob and burrowed into his chest, the faint beat of his hearts the only sign to her that he was still alive.

They came, as she knew they would, the men without faces. One of them attempted to pry her away from the Doctor, but she held fast, sobbing into his shirt. It took three to finally pull her off, and once she was separated from him she lashed out, kicking and biting and screaming as wildly as she could manage. Apparently it surprised them, and for a moment they hesitated, giving her enough time to make a break for it.

There was a possibility that she could have made it, if she hadn't been burdened with the extra weight of a child. They caught her before she reached the end of the street, and she felt a needle jam into her arm, felt herself going limp as the darkness overtook her. After that, she could remember nothing.

* * *

**NUNCHUCKS DOWN!**

**Firstly, I would like to remind you guys that I shall be posting the next story shortly. After all, Moffat does cliffhangers all the time and makes you wait two weeks (or months) to find out what happens. I only make you wait a few days at most. Ergo, there is NO NEED to get violent. Thank you.**

**Reviews make my happy little Doctor Who-infused dream world go 'round. Just remember that. :)**


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